


Ashes to Oxide: The Tapes of Detective Lucy

by sybilius



Series: graveyard harlequins [3]
Category: Helvetica (Webcomic)
Genre: (demi-canonical), Alcholism, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Depression, Detective Noir, Detective Work, Discussions of Life and Death, Epistolary, Epistolary of Epistolary, F/M, Holocene Calendar, M/M, Mob History, Multi, Philosophy, Poor Life Choices, References to Jessica Jones, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Skeletons, Smoking, Storytelling Meta, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, Tape Recording Transcripts, Truths said cruelly, Wit may be terrible but she's right, and Death as life, catch-22, fucking dragging nietschze, sorta almost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/pseuds/sybilius
Summary: Even the dead have a story to leave behind. A private investigator in Farwolaeth City, Detective Lucy dictates five years of cases that shaped his death.A canon-divergence AU to Helvetica, told in tape transcripts.





	1. August 12 12007 -- October 17 12007: Tape 1, Potatoes Case, Scraps from the Summer Cases, -N.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> So I guess I really badly want closure from Helvetica -- or I just really like writing cryptic epistolary and classic stylistic noir. I loved that Lucy is a character who really romanticizes that aesthetic since I do too. So here’s a story for him, and for the rest of the Helvetica cast. An AU if you will, told in transcribed tapes. 
> 
> I’m going to try (le gasp!) to keep a consistent update schedule for once, so updates will be Tuesdays at ~4pm EST. 
> 
> Mind the tags for this if you need trigger warnings. My other Helvetica fics have been shamelessly fluffy -- this is canon with those fics, but takes a darker color. 
> 
> As stated in my previous fic, this is extrapolation from page 99 of Helvetica. Anything that happens after that will probably be utterly inconsistent with how things go here. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and as always, I love hearing from readers, especially in such a small fandom. So if you give it a read, I’d love to know what you thought!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lucy becomes Detective Lucy, cracks many cases, and misses the details on one close to home.

_Dated: August 12, 12007._

 

_Label: Tape 1_

 

 **Lucy:** Okay, so here goes, huh.

 

 **Lucy:** [clears throat] I don’t really know what I’m doing here, but. Heavens said I could be anyone I wanted to be, and I like detective novels, so, I guess detective it is. [He laughs]. I’m not doing a very good job of sounding like them yet. Need a dame to sidle into my office, or something.

 

 **Lucy:** Need to get an office, I suppose. I’ll check around the neighborhoods, this one is a little too upscale for how a detective’s should look. And something closer to downtown, where I can feel the seedy little heartbeat of this deathless town. [Laughs again] Alright, that’s not bad.

 

Silence, the sound of pouring a liquid that could be coffee. A spoon stirring.

 

 **Lucy:** So I guess I need a case, huh. [sips the coffee]. That bastard Niles offered me one, ‘find out what our lives were about, kid. The ultimate mystery’.

 

 **Lucy:** [after a long pause] He’s not wrong, I -- he’s not wrong. I dunno. I can see why Heavens gets all tied up in knots when he talks about it. It’s a weird thing about being dead. [Sips coffee]. Heavens is kind of a bastard, too. That thing with the lake -- well, at least I know he and Niles do it to everyone. Doesn’t really make it better, but.

 

 **Lucy:** I mean, everyone’s gotta be asking the same questions, don’t they? So who knows what the answers are. [Sips coffee]. Who knows...a detective, I guess. A detective.

 

*

 

_Dated [Internal]: August 24, 12007_

 

 **Lucy:** So, I’ve got an office now. Or I moved, to the center of the big city. Concrete steps and chipped paint, bars on the windows. Lots of people smoke here too. Easy to get used to. I might even like it. I mean, hell, can it even kill you, at this point?

 

The soft sound of an exhale, presumably from a cigarette.

 

 **Lucy:** Right, shit, I was supposed to start a new tape. Anyways, it's uh, August 24, 12007 now. I've been dead for almost a year now, got bored of that book shop. [Clears his throat]. Always frequented by people looking for a quick escape, forget about death in reading words that echo about what a life might be like. What it might have been like.

 

 **Lucy:** Alright, even I can see the irony in saying that. I've got a copy of _The Yiddish Policeman's Union_ on my desk right now.

 

The sound of paper being thumbed through.

 

 **Lucy: “** My Saturday Night. My Saturday night is like a microwave burrito. Very tough to ruin something that starts out so bad to begin with.” Huh. Well yeah, I can probably do at least as good as this.

 

 **Lucy:** Anyhow, Good Heavens wanted me to look into that new friend of his, so that's a start for work, even if it is just from my greeter. Mr. Good Heavens. He's the kind-- [slight drawl to his voice], he's the kind of man who not only needs his teacups to match, he needs to invite you over to admire them while serving you bakery-made scones.

 

 **Lucy:** Heh. That's harder than it sounds. I'll work on it. And get myself more tapes.

* * *

 

_Dated: June 1, 12007_

_Label: Potatoes Case_

 

 **Lucy:** Okay, okay, finally got more tapes!

 

Slight pause. A sip of coffee.

 

 **Lucy:** Niles came down to my office today, looking skinny and lanky as the day I first died, still wearing that eyesore of a pink Hawaiian shirt. I asked him how he liked the place, he said it looked awful. Real charmer, Niles always was.

 

 **Lucy:** But he did congratulate me, which would have been nice, if I didn't know what he was after. See. I cracked Good Heavens’s case. Oh, it took some doing. But I dug up all the dirt on that tough-guy they found just out of town when they were supposed to be greeting.

 

 **Lucy:** [slightly more earnest voice] Guess that means I’m really doing this. At least I’ve got another case lined up, because of it. [drawl resumes] Anyways, I’m not surprised Niles wanted the goods on Steak. Probably was him who thought Steak looked a little suspicious. Not exactly a trusting guy. But I don’t blame him. The guy is short and pure muscle, and from what I heard from Heavens, wasn’t the person they expected to greet. When they got him on the outskirts, he played the role well, naked and shivering. But he didn’t scream. They always scream.

 

Pause. The sound of a cigarette lighter flicking, an exhale.

 

 **Lucy:** Damn, I think I might actually be forming a habit. Anyways, they were just about to leave with Steak when their real pick-up popped up screaming. Then they had two. Now that’s a good haul for two greeters, all in a day’s work. Heavens is a trusting guy, but he didn’t get to where he was being naive. He just does people a lot of favors. So he did this ‘Steak’ one, pretended that everything was all sugar and spice. And then he did me a favor, too.

 

 **Lucy:** [after a pause] It took about a month. He’s lucky I’m subtle, this Steak. There’s a lot of people that want him dead. The day I had the file prepared, I met him. But he was different than I expected. See, all the whispers of him in Necropolis had him as a smooth talker as well as _possibly_ a contract killer. Well, near fifteen years back, anyhow. He'd been smart enough to lay low somewhere, cover his tracks. There’d never been anything traced back to his movements, but I bet I could nail him if I put the effort in. I put that in my report.

 

 **Lucy:** To be honest, that’s probably big talk, considering how little I’ve done. But it sounds good, doesn’t it? Okay, Okay, I should stop talking to...whoever is listening to this. Probably just me. So, Steak was making _tea_ of all things in Heavens’ apartment when I turned up on the doorstep. Hardly gang leader material. I considered calling in the cops then and there. But. I feel like that's not why someone hires a detective.

 

 **Lucy:** Heavens was in the bedroom, humming to himself, setting out a new jacket. I just passed him the manila envelope when I was pretty sure Steak wasn't watching. He just...nodded is all, slipped it into a locked drawer in his desk. I mean, I guess greeters know a little bit more than they let on, but. I kind of dropped hints over the phone that this wasn't something to sleep on.

 

 **Lucy:** Steak made me tea, though. Milk and honey, didn't talk much. I guess I can see why Heavens likes him. Hell, he's easier to feel comfortable around than Heavens. Way easier than Niles. [Sips ~~coffee~~ tea]. He makes it better than I do.

 

 **Lucy:** Then a few days later, Heavens comes knocking at my door. He's cut me a check -- first payday, guess I can be proud of that. He's wearing that cashmere sweater that he tries to be comfortable in, sweating in it. There's a moment between us when I pocket the check. I don't ask. That's not what a detective does

 

 **Lucy:** Then he says, all guilt and pearls,

“I burned the reports, and I hope -- I hope you'll do the same.”

And he paused on that, then tried to add,

“He gave me reason to think he deserved a seco--”

And I cut him off, right there. I said,

“You hired me, you got what you needed. What you do with it is your business.”

 

 **Lucy:** [laughs]. You know, I think he liked that. God knows I did. And it was fun to watch Niles squirm later on.

 

 **Lucy:** I should throw out this tape.

* * *

 

_Dated: June- September 12007_

 

_Label: Scraps from the Summer cases_

 

 **Lucy:** Goddamn I haven't made a tape in weeks, what the hell did I get all these for? Should start taking them with me.

 

*

The sound of cars passing beneath. A footstep on metal.

 

 **Lucy:** [hushed whisper] Okay, okay, I’ve got tape. So this is a, uhm, stakeout. Um. I’m up on a fire escape. Yeah, fire might not still feel warm in the city of the dead, but it sure as hell can still kill. [the sound of metal again, adjusting the seat]

 

 **Lucy:** It’s a cheater’s case. Bread and butter of P.I.’s, that and blackmail for various things. Sometimes cheaters for blackmail. This one’s a lawyer, so who-- [suddenly quiet] -- shit, I think that might be her.

 

A shutter clicks. And again.

 

 **Lucy:** Little closer. Yeah, that’s the shot. Oof. Yeah, she’s not going to be happy about this. Her wife.

 

Sudden movement. Silence. Then the distant slam of a door

 

 **Lucy:** [even quieter whisper] I should probably get a quieter camera.

 

*

_Dated [Internal]: August 12007_

 

 **Lucy:** I don't know why he _says_ these things, I mean, shit. Of course I think about it. We all do.

 

Clinking of glass. Muffled swearing.

 

 **Lucy:** Sorry, um. It's August, casework is steady, life is -- death is-- [he coughs, taking a hard breath]. Nothing to report.

 

 **Lucy:** Niles came by. He's been coming by a lot lately, brings a bottle of cheap whiskey, a deck of cards. Complains about Heavens, and Steak. I dunno. It seems like things are tense between them. He sits down at my desk, deals us a hand of poker. The bags under his eyes -- I mean, is that a trick of the light? How is it that the dead need to sleep, that their worn out bones show it?

 

Fumbling, possibly with cigarettes. Muffled swearing. No lighter is found.

 

Lucy sits back at the desk, no better than he was.

 

 **Lucy:** So. Niles deals us poker. And he starts going off, like he always does, but this time about killing. Asks me if I deal with any murder cases, I say no, not yet, usually the police can handle that. Then he gets that hollow-void look in his eyes, and asks me how I'd kill a man. Kill someone that's already been dead once? How to make it foolproof. Do you go for the space where the heart was? Blow open the skull? Know any poisons?

 

Lucy scoffs, but in a way that isn't entirely disaffected.

 

 **Lucy:** And I say, “Niles, why are you on about this?”. He just says:

“Thought that was your work, Lucy.”

Then he pauses, looks over the hand. Makes a bet on-- oh hell, I think it was a flush. He won, in any case, gathering up the chips. Spinning them between the bones of his hand. Then he starts going off again,

“But it is funny, isn't it. We gonna die this time and forget all of this shit?”.

And I said,

“I sure as hell hope I forget this.”

And he laughed. God. Niles has an awful laugh. It's like he's choking out water.

 

Whiskey is slowly poured in the background, the cup being replaced.

 

 **Lucy:** It's funny how we don't need to drink water. I mean. Who knows if we need to eat? Everyone always does. [More darkly] maybe can strike starvation off of Niles’ list. I should probably know about poisons though, shouldn't I. Maybe that's what he was trying to get at. Who the hell knows.

 

 **Lucy:** [soft moan] God. Niles always loves talking about death. Always. Or life, or whatever came before. [Pause, a harsh sip and a gasp] I bet he came up with that Lake shit himself.

 

 **Lucy:** [long, bitter exhale] No. No he went up there same as I did. The really crazy thing is I don't know that everyone does. People they're. They're just happy to get on with their death. [mumbles] Is that-- is that what I'm doing? Forgetting the first case, the only case?

 

The hard sound of glass hitting wood. Lucy staggers up from the desk, still dazed.

 

 **Lucy:** I can't believe I'm taking Niles’ shit seriously. I just. I need to sleep this off.

 

*

_Dated [Internal]: September 12, 12007_

 

 **Lucy:** This city looks pretty on the outside, but it's full of liars. Farwolaeth City. Every city has it's seedy cracks. Some are honest about them, like Necropolis. Others paper them over with pattered wallpaper, trying to ignore the mould that makes them peel over.

 

 **Lucy:** Steak and Heavens have a new place together. And Niles he--he's stopped showing up for work, so he's out. I mean, I know he got tired of Steak popping up, Heavens never shutting up about him but, he had a job to do, right?

 

Clink of glasses. Lucy pours himself a glass of whiskey.

 

 **Lucy:** He's stopped coming round as much. I dunno, Heavens said he wanted nothing to do with him anymore, but I know Heavens. He's worried too. I'm worried.

 

 **Lucy:** Anyways, I was talking about liars. Talking about mmf-- [Lucy winces] -- talking about Niles’ case, that's funny. What came _before._ If you wander into the uptown back-alleys, you can find at least a few tables with some crone wearing false gold jewelery, eyes glittering, asking to hold your hand for a price. You can ask about the past and the future but -- hell, how many of us take our future after death seriously?  

 

 **Lucy:** How many times have I done this life-death-death dance before, that's what I should have asked? [long sip of whiskey]. God. I am starting to sound like Niles. Anyways, she took my hand, which was cheaper than doing whatever measurements of my skull. That seemed especially full of shit. Her fingers were yellowed, brittle even. Oh, you age after death. Can die of that, too.

 

 **Lucy:** She told me -- ah, hell, I almost want to laugh. That I'd died saving a woman, Lucille. Love of my life. That I'd have to wait another twenty years for her to die, and join me. [scoffs] What a load of _shit._ That was the first thing I thought of when I went to the lake, and you know what? Knowing that doesn't tell me shit. The living fall in love. The dead fall in love. Whatever shit we're pretending to feel doesn't tell us who we are.

 

Long pause. The cap being screwed back on to a bottle.

 

 **Lucy:** Hell, that _really_ sounded like Niles. Maybe I should go out more. Maybe should get a replacement for Lucille, whoever the hell she was. Not me.

 

 **Lucy:** [more quietly] Not. Me.

 

 **Lucy:** It's September, uhm, tenth? [rustling of paper] Oh, twelfth. I'm working on two cases to pay the bills and -- working on this, I guess. The big one.

 

 **Lucy:** Maybe I'll pay Niles a visit and tell him about it. I dunno.

 

* * *

 

_Dated: October 15, 12007_

 

_Label: -N_

 

 **Lucy:** [hushed whisper] Okay, so this is another stake out tape. This time, it's personal. And I'm not just saying that for effect, I'm. I'm following Niles. It's October 15. I'm across from his apartment, watching from a window.

 

 **Lucy:** He's reading. Small, dirty paperback with a bright orange cover. He's got a mug. Probably that shitty instant coffee he loves so damn much.

 

Silence on the tape, for close to an hour.

 

 **Lucy:** Why aren't I going in? Well. He wasn't exactly happy when I visited him last month to tell him about his case. Hell, he was -- he was angry. His eyes got all bugged out when I told him about the fortune teller, about piecing together what we get from books and history and. And he just said:

“Forget about it, you stupid kid. It doesn't matter.”

 

 **Lucy:** I've gotten pretty good at knowing when people are lying. Even Heavens, who likes so casually to smooth things over, I can tell when he's full of shit. Well, partially because Steak let me in on his tells, but. Point is, this was probably the biggest lie Niles ever told.

 

 **Lucy:** So does he know something I don't? What's he hiding? I mean, I don't know what I expected, but I thought maybe he'd want to work together.

 

The drag of curtains being pulled across a window  The fumbling spark of a cigarette being lit. Lucy exhales.

 

 **Lucy** : Guess that makes it my case now.

 

Silence for another hour.

 

 **Lucy:** I guess I could talk about it, hell, about any of the cases, but. I don't really want to. Don't see much point in it.

 

*

_Dated [Internal]: October 16, 12007_

 

 **Lucy:** October 16. He's um, reading that book again. Same one, I'm pretty sure.

 

Silence, this time stretching to only half an hour.

 

 **Lucy:** [yawning] Hell, does he ever sleep?

 

 **Lucy:** [after a few minutes] I'm running out of tape. I'll put this back on if anything interesting happens.

 

*

_Dated [Internal]: October 17, 12007_

 

 **Lucy:** October 17. He's made a phone call, but that's it. S'far as I can tell, no one picked up.

 

 **Lucy:** Think he _might_ be asleep with that book again in that shitty velour chair. Maybe. His eyes are closed at least.

 

 **Lucy:** Hell. I should go home and get some sleep too.

*

_Dated [Internal]: October 18, 12007_

 

Roll tape. The lighter flickers, Lucy lighting a cigarette. He's gotten used to this.

 

 **Lucy:** Okay, sleep has given me a sharper eye, so I'm going to tell you where I'm at. The neighborhood Niles lives in is about as shitty as the one where my office is, so I can afford to short term rent this empty apartment for a month while I stake him out.

 

 **Lucy:** There's a lot of dive bars around here, the kind where you can find a woman with great legs and a yellowed smile, not that it matters when all you can taste is whiskey. That's the way Niles likes it. Or liked it, seeing is all he does lately is stay in and read the same damn book all night.

 

 **Lucy:** Oh, he's getting up. Shit, need to put this out [the sound of stomping out the cigarette]. Closing the curtains. Huh. Is he on to me?

 

Silence for a few minutes. A few footsteps.

 

 **Lucy:** Is he finally going to sl--

 

~~BANG~~

 

Gunshot.

 

 **Lucy:** What the hell-- shit. Fuck, fuck. Niles-- [his voice deteriorates], fuck don't do that--

 

Heavy footsteps, static through the recorder. Lucy is running. A door slams, a horn honks, he's crossed the road.

 

 **Lucy:** What number, what number, fuck--

 

A buzzing sound. And again. No answer. Lucy exhales hard, then there is a harsh snapping, a door being broken into.

 

Lucy runs. He runs all the way up to --

 

 **Lucy:** Three eleven. [Twitches the handle. Knocks] Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

The same harsh snapping. Lucy’s boots, running, and then -- stop.

 

 **Lucy:** [soft and low] God. He -- he.

 

Shaking hands. Cut tape. Then, tape rolls again, right after.

 

 **Lucy:** [his detective's drawl, voice shaking] He did it in that awful green chair. Small caliber bullet, right through his mouth to his skull. I guess it was a sure thing. Fuck. And he was asking about-- fuck.

 

 **Lucy:** [back to the drawl] There's no blood. [mumbles] I don't know why I'm surprised, [drawl], of course the old man had no damn blood in him. Just splinters of skull dust, pieces of him stuck to that chair. His eyes -- they don’t -- they don’t close. I’ve seen some bad shit, but I--

 

 **Lucy:** [swallows hard, back to his normal voice, quiet and small] Who am I kidding. I’ve barely seen any shit at all.

 

Silence. Then-- a step. A few more steps. The dial tone, and the distinct roll of a phone dial. Muffled swearing, through Lucy’s tears. The dialing starts again.

 

It rings.

 

 **Lucy:** Police, um. Um. I need to report a shooti-- a suicide. Mandibalia Drive, uhh, shit, uh, 170. Apartment 311.

 

Lucy takes a heavy breath in, dragging his hand over his face.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. I'm calm. I’m calm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Turns out the dead have funerals too. Turns out sometimes they’re just as messy as the living. Lucy finds a bit distraction from thinking about Niles’ death in the form of a young writer who starts trailing his work. 
> 
> If you read and found this interesting, let me know <3 !


	2. October 30 12007 -- May 10 12008: Funeral for Death, The Board and the Box, Catch-22, The Dame Part 1, The Dame Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out the dead have funerals too. Turns out sometimes they’re just as messy as the living. Lucy finds a bit distraction from thinking about Niles in the form of a young writer who starts trailing his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, unlike the previous, goes from grimdark to slightly optimistic. Some nice inversion pairs there (maybe I should have a theme going. You thought a story should be a triangle function, I thought it should be a sine wave….)
> 
> Anyways, I digress, enjoy!

_Dated: October 30, 12007_

 

_Label: Funeral for death._

 

Roll tape. Slight background from a few people talking. The tape deck is dropped on to a podium. Lucy steps forward.

 

 **Lucy:** [voice flat, almost the detective drawl, but lacking in heart] I wanted a record of this.

 

There is a slight, almost uncomfortable silence.

 

 **Lucy:** [Clears throat]. Niles was. He was someone who never looked away from the facts. Not because something was ugly, not because something didn't make sense. Not even when something was nothing.

 

 **Lucy:** If he'd been here, at a funeral for someone dead, he'd have asked if there was any point. Death meaning anything if we're just going to do it all over. Mmf. Funerals aren't for the dead, or whatever we call the twice dead. They're for the people they leave behind. So for the few that are here. Thanks.

 

A fumbling noise, an attempt to click a button. Then the tape recording is muffled. Lucy has placed it in his pocket, presumably believing it to be off.

 

A gentle murmur through what can't be more than ten people. Lucy walks past the chairs, doesn't sit down. The voices slowly die out with his footsteps. His hand jostles against the recorder, then he slides a cigarette out of a box, his lighter flickering.

 

Lucy exhales, exhausted.

 

Footsteps approach.

 

 **Good Heavens:** Lucille, I must say, that was hardly appropriate for a funeral.

 

 **Lucy:** [short, distant]. It's what he would have wanted. [Pause] He got what he wanted.

 

 **Good Heavens:** [sighs, long and concerned] Should you ever need anything-- don't hesitate to call.

 

 **Lucy:** Sure, like you called back Niles during his last few days? [sharp breath]. So that was you he called. That was just a guess. [sucks on cigarette]. So how does that feel, Heavens?

 

 **Good Heavens:** [through gritted teeth] Don't be cruel.

 

 **Lucy:** Why not? Better than false charity. Better than collecting broken fuck-ups to make yourself look so pristine, and then dumping them in the gutter when you can't fix them?

 

 **Steak:** Hey, back off.

 

 **Good Heavens:** [Quietly] It's all right, Steak.

 

 **Lucy:** He's saying that because he knows you're next.

 

 **Steak:** Why are _you_ saying this, huh?

 

 **Lucy:** [coughs on cigarette] It's what Niles would have wanted.

 

 **Steak:** Bullshit.

 

 **Lucy:** [breathes out smoke, Good Heavens coughs]. Don't call me.

 

Footsteps. The humming sounds of passing cars, a mumbled address. Lucy is riding, anonymous from the graves, in a taxi back to the city. The sun is setting over Farwolaeth City.

 

~~He tries, and fails to think of it as poetic.~~

A muffled mumble that could be “keep the change”. Lucy walks the steps up to his downtown office and apartment slowly. Unbuttons his jacket, throws it on to the chair at his desk.

 

 **Lucy:** Shit. Shit, why did I--? [his voice trails off into a tired sigh. A soft bump, his head hitting the desk].

 

A soft, laboured is barely audible from the desk, either sleeping or sobbing.

 

It continues till the tape runs out, about half an hour later.

* * *

_Dated: Winter 12007_

 

_Label: The Board and the Box_

 

 **Lucy:** The case. I haven't touched it since -- mmf. [Gruff narration] Niles’ case. I've got this board, pages from books, bits of legends, scraps from mystics and academics alike. Strung together with bits of twine. It's a real piece of work. I'm staring at it right now I-- I took it seriously-- course, I always do, but -- this was bigger than him. Bigger than me, even. It still is --

 

Stops short, running his hands along his face.

 

 **Lucy:** What the hell am I even doing. Okay, okay, just. Maybe I can’t handle this case. I can’t -- I should just. Pack it up.

 

The phone rings. Lucy flinches in his seat, making a noise of displeasure.

 

 **Lucy:** Heavens continues to ignore my damn request. Guess that is the guilt on him. Well. I'm not picking up.

 

 **Lucy:** [softer, but sure] I'm not going to end up like Niles. [more loudly]. And if-- when I don't, it's not going to be because of Heavens.

 

Lucy exhales smoke, the soft tap of his cigarette on the ash tray.

 

 **Lucy:** When I don't. Whenever that is.

 

*

 

_Dated: None. Newspaper reports put the case at December 14_

 

 **Lucy:** Jesus, and this ended up in the paper? The Brown Wren case. [he rumples the newspaper] They gave it a name and everything, my name in the lede, and more calls on my phone. I’ve gotten three more cases just-- just today.

 

Lucy sits in silence for a while, taking a sip of coffee.

 

 **Lucy:** I’m a detective. I-- I guess I’ve been one for a while. It doesn’t feel like -- well, I guess no one feels like the kind they see in books. I still haven't pulled a gun on anyone, barely know how to shoot the one I do own. [Pause]. It's a lot more talking than I thought it would be. Talking and waiting.

 

The flicker of a cigarette lighter. Lucy coughs slightly, then begins.

 

 **Lucy:** [Detective's drawl] So, the Brown Wren Case. If they’d asked me, I’d have called it the Bad Tidings case. This sly bastard talks my client out of nearly seven hundred k, takes off to someplace warm, and has the gall to mail him a goddamn Yule card from wherever the hell he is. The police don't bother with out of City scammers, and the intercity detectives are usually all tied up with the gang wars from Necropolis. So it was down to a P.I. And that's how this skinny, reedy-voiced guy wearing plaid buttoned all the way to his neck ended up in my office.

 

 **Lucy:** They called him the Brown Wren first of all for the migration, and second because all of his aliases were some variant on ‘Brown’. That was an easy way to get connections, one that the intercity detectives missed. [Pause] People that know the detective's trade might say I was lucky. The phone records between the client and Brown were easy to backtrack, which led me to the calls between Brown and his girlfriend tracking all the way back to a hotel in Cartilage Beach. I called him up, on that phone, letting him know that I'd gathered up evidence and when I found him, he'd go down on my client's dollar. That lit a fire under his ass.

 

 **Lucy:** Brown, whose name was Violet, as it turned out, wired five hundred K back to my client. Hush money. I asked the client if he wanted to close the file and he said “No way in hell.” So we passed it to the police. It didn't take much coordination effort at that point, a few calls down to Cartilage Beach.

 

Lucy exhales again, trying to find the right way to say this.

 

 **Lucy:** They arrested him easily. So much for all those taunting Yule cards. And then. [he pauses, sucking on a cigarette] Then he hung himself in his cell.

 

 **Lucy:** Not one of his other victims got their money back. “None but the client of Detective Lucy have recovered any funds”, that's what the paper says, paragraph three. I mean, hell. It wasn't even a tough case, and this is what gets me noticed?

 

He trails off, mumbling something that sounds like “that's how it always is”.

 

 **Lucy:** I put it on the board. The one for his case. Niles’. I can't sleep looking at it -- I. I don't know. Maybe he's dead and it's over. No jail time, no hell, nothing but Oblivion. Maybe he's someplace like this kind of limbo. Is this hell? Is it?

 

 **Lucy:** I wonder if Niles thought of it as some kind of escape. But hell. We wake up here losing more than half of what we are. Almost all of it.

 

 **Lucy:** I should be proud of this case. I should be and I don't feel shit.

*

_Dated [Internal]: December 22, 12007_

 

 **Lucy:** So it's. [Flips through a calendar] December 22, 12007. Oh right, yesterday was Heavens’ Yule party. Which he invited me to. Bastard.

 

Lucy takes a bite of sufganiyot. He pauses, trying to find the right way to say--

 

 **Lucy:** I did it. I put it all in a box -- it's. It's done. Case cold.

* * *

_Dated:  May 17, 12008_

 

_Label: Catch-22_

 

 **Lucy:** Shit, does this thing still w-- [overlapping tape] Yeah, guess so.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, so. I haven't done this in… a while. Kept thinking about the cold case. Thinking about him.

 

The unscrewing of a bottle of whiskey. A short, sharp drink, without pouring. Lucy is at his desk, casting his gaze over to the mess of his bed in the corner. He crumples a newspaper, brushes off the surface of the desk. Sighs.

 

 **Lucy:** Been trying to keep my mind off of that. There’s cases, at least [he trails off to a mumble]. They're all the same. Went to a few bars, but that was a shit idea, since I kept ending up in his neighborhood, thinking about how long he was thinking about doing what he did. I met women, sure. Some of them gave me this look, this hungry-eyed hollowness in them. Reminded me of Niles. I just -- I couldn't talk to them. They couldn't give me the answers I was looking for.

 

 **Lucy:** [Gruff, the voice of the detective. It's becoming closer to his own voice.] So. I end up at the local college, which gets me more than twice what I bargained for. I never liked-- [he stops short, pauses]. I've never wanted to go to college since I've been dead. Sure, books are fine, but not when they're telling you how to think. But I thought, hell. Someone _tell me how to think_ about this.

 

 **Lucy:** Philosophy One-oh-One. I slip into the back a few minutes in to the class. It's taught by a woman with sharp, tight clothes, red lips, legs shimmering in nylons. [he pauses] She talks about Marcus Aurelius. Dead classical philosopher. She asks:

“Now what's the question we should be asking about the classical philosophers?”

Met with silence. I cough, thinking about ancient bones. She scoffs, and says what I expected her to

“Are _they here_?”

Good question. She went off on some other slides of living busts. Mentioned something about living philosophy not being written with the dead in mind, yet here we are still studying it again, and again, who knows how many times over. So. I like her.

 

 **Lucy:** She calls me up to the front at the end of class, before I can sneak out. Her red lips curve upwards, looking me up and down

“Are you one of my students.”

She phrases it like that, like it's not a question at all. I just shake my head.

“Probably for the better.” Is all she says, with a look in her eyes I can't quite place. She looks familiar.

 

Lucy takes a draught from the bottle, only grunting in displeasure.

 

 **Lucy:** Then that night, I'm at one of Niles’ dives again. I think it's called Wishbone. Glinting wall of glass and stained oak, creaky bar stools, loud music, dim lights. Empty eyes.

Then I see her. She's taken off the blazer and ascot, unbuttoned that pale blue shirt to expose the top of her ribs. Same red lips. That look in her eyes. Empty.

Of course she waves me over, says,

“Thought I recognized you.”

Just as I'm thinking it's a good thing I haven't taken anyone home, leastaways a professor, she gives me a lingering glance that makes the ghost of flesh shiver on my bones.

“Buy you a drink?” she says.

“If you want.” I say. I didn't expect that. I sit next to her, the stool squeaking, “You're Wittgenstein, right?”

I'd caught the name on some green-boned kid's notebook. Her red lips turn down, but she answers:

“Wit. If our names are to mean anything, I hope I was cursing that directionless windbag with my dying breath. And you are?”

“Lucy. Detective Lucy.” I add the latter as an afterthought. She asks me,

“Did you die with the title 'detective’?”

“S'just my job,” that seems like an understatement. Pretty sure cases are the only thing keeping my death from going off the rails.

 

Lucy pauses, weighing out the meager slosh from the bottle of whiskey. This seems to register with him, and he places the lid back on the bottle, and the bottle back on the shelf before returning to sit at the desk.

 

 **Lucy:** So we get our drinks, she drinks neat whiskey just the same as me. God, I'm beginning to attract a type of person, huh. And she puts her hand on my wrist, smiles and asks:

“What's a detective doing in a philosophy class?”

“Looking for answers,” I say.

She laughs, and it crackles like chicken bone used for scrying.

“Why on earth would you think you'd find them there?”

“What kind of answers do you think I'm looking for?”

“Oh, that's not bad. _Detective._ That's a little bit interesting,” she pauses, “Alright, I’ll play your game. I'll let you buy me a drink, but I won't let you sleep with me.”

 

 **Lucy:** That's a funny thing for her to say, and she's got this smile on her face, legs crossed like she's expecting something specific from me. Then it comes back to me, back when I used to bury my nose in dead books rather than playing out the stories myself.

“Catch-22. Am I supposed to refuse, then you ask me if I don't want to sleep with you?”

She doesn't act impressed or even congratulate me  Just smiles wider, hungrier, “Do you?”

I do. I take her back here with me, she complains about the state of my bed, I make love to her on this desk instead. [Pause] Do the dead have virginity? [Another pause]. Okay, that's a stupid question. Point is, the dead can screw, and if anything is going to remind you you're not alive, it's that.

 

 **Lucy:** There's so much absence in it, no breasts, no sweat, no skin against skin, nothing but the empty space, phantom pain and pleasure. When she screams it sounds like mourning. It's awful, in it's way. [Exhales, a long pause]. That was almost a week ago. I've seen her every other day since then.

 

 **Lucy:** The sex isn't getting any better. But maybe. Getting there with the answers. I don't know.

  
**Lucy:** I don't really feel any of it anymore.

* * *

 

_Dated: July 8, 12008_

 

_Label: The Dame_

 

 **Lucy:** You know, I thought about labeling a tape about Wit ‘the Dame', but I never wanted to. I guess I was just waiting for this one. [Pause] Not that I've stopped sleeping with Wit, but that doesn't mean anything. I bet if she wasn't sleeping with me, she'd just find someone else to talk at. We talk at each other. That's it.

 

Lucy sets a glass down on a table, unscrews the bottle, pours it carefully. Not too much. He takes a careful sip.

 

 **Lucy** : Anyways, I'm having a smoke after Wit's class, and I catch sight of this girl on the bench, just opposite me, under the shade of a tree. She's uh-- ducking a little from behind the tree, scribbling something down in a bright purple notebook. Like she's got something to hide, but she doesn't want to hide it.

 

 **Lucy:** But it isn't good form for a detective to uh, be observed. So I walk up, slow as molasses, while she's scribbling down a paragraph or two. She's writing so much she barely notices me till my shadow is over her skull.

“You staring at me, sweetheart?” I say.

She looks up, and her eyes glitter a little behind the hollowness of their sockets. She says:

“Mmmm. Maybe.” Just like that, all drawn out. Like she's absolutely dying for me to ask her why.

So I bite. I step closer the bench, cock my head at her, and ask,

“What are you seeing?”

It's funny, one thing they don't talk about much in detective novels is how easy it is to get someone to tell you everything you need to know just by asking in the right way. Though from the way her eyes spark when I sit down, she was absolutely dying for the question.

 

 **Lucy:** [for a moment, with the same lightness he had in the first few tapes] She says,

“I'm a writer, and you look just like a detective ought to. Soooo I was thinking of writing...that.”

I keep a straight face, for the most part. Little half smile. I say,

“I am a detective. Detective Lucy at your service.”

“Autumn,” her voice is breathless when she says it, “Y-you-- you're not kidding, right?”

I laugh then, feels strange to, and I tell her about the gang money case I cracked a few weeks ago. She's a good audience, gasping and clapping at all the dramatic moments. Before I know it, it's probably been an hour just...talking.

 

 **Lucy:** Then when it's over she asks where she can find me. [Pause] You know. I don't know why I didn't just tell her.

 

He remembers his drink, takes a gulp of it almost too fast, and gasps slightly.

 

 **Lucy:** I told her to see if she could figure it out. I told her to start at the beginning, like a real detective. [laughs, short and bitter. Nothing like the earlier tapes]. I like that. It's the one thing none of us can do. Start. At. The beginning. [Finishes his drink]. She was -- cute though. Who knows if I'll see her again.

 

 **Lucy:** Start at the beginning...

 

Lucy fumbles with the recorder, switches the buttons off.

* * *

_Dated: May 10, 12008_

 

_Label: The Dame, Part 2_

 

 **Lucy:** Okay, this one is a little interesting. A mob case. The Litschkoff Case. So I got a call last week. Deep voice. Tobacco-fucked, and that's saying something coming fr--

 

A knock rings out on the tape. Lucy pauses, thrown off.

 

 **Lucy:** Huh. Not expecting any clients, and I don’t usually get walk-ins. Mm. Hopefully this isn't some kind of revenge from tampering in mob business. [He pauses a moment]. Better leave the tape on.

 

Lucy crosses the room, opens the door.

 

 **Lucy:** Oh, um. Hey.

 

 **Autumn:** Hi! [a pause as she peers around him]. Wow, is this your office? _And_ it’s where you live? It’s almost exactly like I pictured! Bed’s messy too, coffee on the desk, cigarettes. Is that whiskey?

 

Footsteps skitter across the room. Lucy jumps aside, too surprised to respond.

 

 **Autumn:** Sorry, were you talking to someone?

 

 **Lucy:** Just um-- taking a call. So you found me--

 

 **Autumn:** Detective Lucy, in the telephone listings. I found you same day I met you. Easy-peasy.

 

 **Lucy:** I suppose that's in my interest. [Sits back down, his chair creaking] Detective's work is a business. A living, if you could call it a life, or a death.

 

 **Autumn:** Ooh, that's good, let me get out my notes [Pen scratching. Lucy shifts back and forth on the floor boards]. I didn't come right away because I wanted to have something to show you.

 

 **Lucy:** Something to show me?

 

 **Autumn:** Some writing, of course! Based on what you told me? [Slight pause] That is, if you want to--

 

 **Lucy:** [Quietly, no trace of his usual drawl] Oh no, I'd love to see your writing.

 

 **Autumn:** Oh-- Okay. It's written in first person like a lot of old detective stories, if, um, you wanted to-- anyways [the rustling of paper].

 

Autumn fidgets gently on the chair as the pages turn. It doesn't take Lucy long to read all of it.

 

 **Autumn:** It's not much, just a start--

 

 **Lucy:** You know, that’s really good -- and I’ve read a _lot_ of detective novels.

 

 **Autumn:** You really think so?

 

 **Lucy:** I know so.

 

 ~~There is a creak in the chair~~ Lucy gestures at his bookshelf, to Autumn's slight gasp.

 

 **Autumn:** Wow, you do own a lot of books, huh?

 

 **Lucy:** Just detective novels.

 

 **Autumn:** Oh, I don't recognize this orange one--

 

 **Lucy:** [Sharply] No. No I haven't read that one. [Lighter voice] So, know any? Do you write these stories because you read them?

 

 **Autumn:** Of course! I love a good story. It's the best way to escape -- everything. Make something more interesting out of death.

 

She pauses, almost dreamy. Lucy seems momentarily lost for words.

 

 **Lucy:** That’s -- yeah, I thought that too.

 

 **Autumn:** [gasps] Oh. My. God. You know what this makes you? My _muse_. Oh wow, I’ve always wanted a muse!

 

 **Lucy:** [Laughs, somewhere between genuine and bitter] Yeah? What does that make you to me?

 

 **Autumn:** [almost to herself] Well, in a detective novel, if there's a woman coming to the office...she's either...Mmm. Well. [Tentative, but almost daring] Why don't you tell me, Detective?

 

 **Lucy:** I'm, ah, still gathering evidence.

 

A pause, then Autumn giggles, and Lucy chuckles too, almost distantly.

 

 **Autumn:** I should get back, actually. Homework, you know [slight gagging noise].

 

 **Lucy:** Ah yeah, yeah.

 

 **Autumn:** You too?

 

 **Lucy:** No, no, I just sit in on Wi-- On Dr. Wittgenstein’s philosophy classes. Part of a case.

 

 **Autumn:** Ooh, you’re lucky you’re not in her class. She’s quite mean on her paper feedback. They’re always so difficult!

 

 **Lucy:** [Drily] Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.

 

 **Autumn:** So, have you got a case now?

 

 **Lucy:** Mmf. Well. There's this case I've been working on for years now that's gone cold--

 

 **Autumn:** Years? How long have you been dead?

 

 **Lucy:** Alright, alright. It's been a year. Point is. I should get back to it. It’s a big one.

 

The chair creaks as Autumn leans forward, her elbows on the desk.

 

 **Autumn:** So, are you going to tell me about it?

 

 **Lucy:** [Detective’s drawl]  I don’t know, you’ve just walked into my office, trying to dig up dirt on me? How do I know you're not going to be trouble.

 

 **Autumn:** [Picking it up, she lowers her voice to something slower, smokier] Oh I _am_ going to be trouble, Mister Muse. Just you watch me. But I’ll start at the beginning with this like everything else. Is that a challenge?

 

 **Lucy:** [Laughs, bitter and disaffected, but there’s something uncomfortable in it] Why don’t you start with something easier, better for writing. Come back with the story of -- of the Brown Wren case.

 

 **Autumn:** Fine. I’ll see you soon.

 

 **Lucy:** Confident, are you?

 

 **Autumn:** Well, I'm here, aren't I _detective?_

 

 **Lucy:** [laughs with a lightness in it, in spite of his role]. See you soon.

 

Autumn's footsteps die out, the door closing behind her.

 

 **Lucy:** Maybe I should let her tell the Litschkoff Case.

 

Lucy switches off the tape.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Brown Wren case was based on a real-life private investigator case. You can peruse more of them here:
> 
> http://www.garyglanz.com/cases/famous-cases 
> 
> The summaries a little egocentric (obviously the guy is advertising himself) but I feel like they really encompass the actual work a P.I. does, as opposed to what novels would have you believe (as Lucy is learning here ;) ). That’s one thing I really appreciate about Jessica Jones, is it does acknowledge that most of P.I. work is stalking cheaters or petty disagreements. 
> 
> If you liked the fic, please leave a comment! I thrive on chatting with people over fandom and as you might have guessed, Helvetica fandom is a quiet place. 
> 
> Next chapter: Lucy takes up Niles’ case again. Just as he’s about to go deep, a certain newly-dead dreamer turns up at Seer’s Lake.


	3. October 27 12008- January 4, 12009: The Night Watch,[Unlabeled], Yule, Seer’s Lake, Near-to-Life Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy takes up Niles’ case again. Just as he’s about to go deep, a certain newly-dead dreamer turns up at Seer’s Lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update time! 
> 
> This chapter is depressing right up until the end, then things are looking up!
> 
> And hey! We're caught up to Helvetica! From here on out, it's really an AU :)
> 
> Content warning for Wit being rather awful? I don't know, just read it and let me know what you thought :)

_Dated: October 27, 12008_

 

_Label: The Night Watch_

 

Roll tape. There is a rustling of fabric, sheets shifting off the bed.

 

 **Lucy:** Can't sleep.

 

 **Lucy:** I can't sleep so I'm going to tell you-- whoever you are-- I'm going to tell you everything. About the case, the one I still think of as Niles’.

 

 **Lucy:** I brought out the board five months ago. I told Autumn I was working on it, so I had to. [Pause] Not that I've shown it to her. But when I took it out six months ago I realized something. What I saw on that board was mostly about me. Who “Lucille” was. How I could find that out.

 

The crinkling of paper, as Lucy smooths out what might be old files.

 

 **Lucy:** I was thinking too small. Not looking at the bigger picture. See everyone's got a story, but no one is giving it more than a few minutes thought before moving on and living their entire life again. Living their death.

 

 **Lucy:** [Quietly] I don't know how they do it. [More certain] And I sure as hell don't know why. Damn it, we had a whole life -- or I hope most of them did. I-- I don’t know if I hope I did.

 

 **Lucy** : What I'm trying to say is. What's the point of doing it over, and over, working, paying rent-- I mean, it's the same old story, isn't it? Or is it?

 

Lucy crumples up one of the pages, tosses it. Then another. The next, he folds carefully, then tears it systematically into pieces.

 

 **Lucy:** God, what was I saying. Mmf. The case. So the board looks like this now; three parts. Life. Death. After, with a question mark. Niles, and the Brown Wren, they're under 'after’ -- two obituaries. Under 'Life’ -- the name 'Lucille’. Last words, perhaps. Everyone is convinced they were last words. One word to cover who knows how many years.

 

He hesitates from his tearing for a moment, setting a page aside. Then he resumes tearing, without folding.

 

 **Lucy:** Autumn. I -- I want to show her, some days. I don't know that she'd understand. She's always thinking on the next story, not stuck on the ones that came before. What's her name mean, then? The memory of a season. [Pause] I hear there's some places in the world of the dead they get seasons. Not here. No, the cacti barely bother to flower, here.

 

He ceases tearing up the paper, suddenly taken by a thought.

 

 **Lucy:** I...I've got two new pieces of evidence added to the board. One was from a man I met by the city underbelly. Toothless and bottomless eyes, yellowed corners of his jaw. Hawking flyers about memories, about Springtide and Yule holidays of all things. Things we feel then-- echoes in the bones looking at certain symbols. God, when I say it now-- he was no different than that palm reader. Just another con on the streets.

 

 **Lucy:** He...he bought it, at least though. What he was saying. He asked me, leaning in with a brittle crackle in his bones:

“What is it you believe, Mister?”

“Nothing,” I tell him, and I didn't think I was lying.

“That's just it isn't it. Dead don't believe in nothings” he grinned toothless, “let me know when you want to change that.”

And he gave me this brochure. Something about a temple. I stuck that on the board too. Haven’t-- I haven’t read it yet.

God, as if it's something to aspire to, just believing blindly. A detective doesn't _believe_ . He knows. Even when those truths are ugly. [Pause]. Not that I have any truths, either. It's all just. It's that I _don't know_.

 

He drops the pages on the tabletop. One of them falls to the floor. He doesn’t move.

 

 **Lucy:** I-- I'm failing him and everyone else. [to himself] Who knew I gave such a damn.

 

Lucy gets up from the bed, grabbing the whiskey from the shelf. He sits back down, the bedsprings creaking out. Unscrews the cap.

 

 **Lucy:** Here's to you, Niles, you bastard. Hope you didn't have to do it over again this time around. [Takes a gulp from the bottle, gasps]. Damnit. That’s not getting any easier.

 

Lucy sighs, stands up, puts the whiskey back. Long silence before he walks back to the bed, pulling the sheets over himself. Cut tape.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dated: November 4 12008_

 

_Unlabeled._

 

The tape begins with a jarring bump, static and then-- the distinct moaning of a woman's voice.

 

[Out of courtesy, the transcriber did not listen to the first six minutes of the tape, which he presumes are the rest of a sexual encounter]

 

At six minutes the moans have switched to ragged breath, the sound of a dress zipping up the back.

 

 **Wit:** [Naturally smoky voice, slight trace of a Slavic accent] Cigarette?

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, I've got it.

 

A lighter flickering. Wit exhales delicately, slipping off the desk and pacing about the room.

 

 **Wit:** You still haven't cleaned that bed, have you?

 

 **Lucy:**  I mean. Would you want to have sex there, even if I did?

 

 **Wit:** Of course not. That would ruin your effect, wouldn't it? We know what we're both here for. It's all very…. stylistic, big R Romantic, if I'm to be flattering to you.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah.

 

Lucy takes the bottle of whiskey down from the shelf, sets out glasses.

 

 **Wit:** No, not for me. I had enough at the bar. Tch. You know, you should drink less.

 

 **Lucy:** Probably.

 

 **Wit:** You weren't in class last week.

 

 **Lucy:** Had a case.

 

 **Wit:** Tch. 'A case’. What about?

 

 **Lucy:** Why don't you figure it out, start at the beginning?

 

 **Wit:** [laughs, unkind] What, like your little fangirl? Ooh, you thought I didn't notice her? No, Lucy, I simply don't care. Tell me, or don't, that's entirely up to you.

 

Lucy puts his glass down on the table, hard.

 

 **Lucy:** What if I want you to tell me? Or aren't you smart enough to put it together?

 

 **Wit:** [mild, but with a dangerous edge] You really want to do this with me, Lucy? Because I don't think you do.

 

 **Lucy:** Try me.

 

She sighs theatrically, with the world-weariness of one who knows she is right.

 

 **Wit:** It doesn't take even part of my genius to figure out why you turned up at the back of my class on the first day. Like a handful of the post mortem population, you're obsessed with the meaning of death, what came before, and why

 

 **Wit:** What's more, you're deluded enough to think you're the only one pursuing this, and you don't listen to anyone who isn't saying what you're already thinking. You are utterly convinced simply by lack of data of the uniqueness of your ow--

 

 **Lucy:** [cutting her off] Yeah, are you done?

 

 **Wit:** No, I think not.

 

She crosses the room to the bookshelf.

 

 **Wit:** There are fifty-four trite detective novels here, and only one book on philosophy. And you had to pick Nietschze, the arrogant prick. Of course you would.

 

 **Lucy:** It's not mine.

 

 **Wit:** Oh? I find that hard to believe.

 

 **Lucy:** You want to know how I got that book? It belonged to a man -- a friend. He killed himself. That's it.

 

There is a long, pregnant pause. Lucy lets out a huff of breath, satisfied to have stopped Wit's tirade.

 

 **Wit:** [delicately] Why don't you tell me about him, then?

 

 **Lucy:** There's nothing to tell.

 

 **Wit:** [laughs, unkind] No, the book says it all, doesn't it? There's a reason why you hesitated on 'friend’, because this man was probably hell and a half to be around. So damn self absorbed, always thinking he had such _depth_ to what he said, such grim veracity.

You're probably thinking he was right, that he had some great knowledge you didn't.

 

 **Lucy:** Shut up.

 

 **Wit:** Oh, but didn't you ask for this? Don't worry, Detective, you won't have to listen to something other than your own monologue much longer.

 

 **Wit:** One day you're going to read this book. You're going to read it and you'll think of it as a _revelation._ But it's the same damn story everyone who has ever felt isolated and overtly self-important tells themselves. [Voice growing more precise, sharp] All the questions in the world and you get stuck on the simplest ones, thinking you've got something so damn clever to say. Never listening to what anyone else has to say about them.

 

 **Lucy:** I'm not the one in the room who needs to be so _fucking_ clever no matter what.

 

A pause.

 

 **Wit:** [with a smile in her voice] That's why I like you, Lucy. You're an idiot right up until when it doesn't matter.

 

 **Lucy:** Get out.

 

 **Wit:** [mildly, with a slight snort] You had to say that? I'm leaving. Don't let me see you in my class again.

 

She stands up, and her heels click as she leaves the room.

* * *

 

_Dated: December 18, 12008_

 

_Label: Yule_

 

Fumbling with a recorder. The window in the room is open, letting in the sounds of cars passing and the occasional yell from the street. It is likely evening.

 

 **Lucy:** I should throw that last tape out. Record over it. Anything.

 

Lucy drops something plastic, presumably the last tape. He paces about the room eventually sitting down to the creak of his chair and flipping through the stack of mail on his desk.

 

 **Lucy:** Christ. I really had no goddamn clue what day it was until I got the invitation. When is Heavens going to give that up?

 

He folds the page once, but doesn't rip it just yet. He searches his pockets, eventually finding his lighter. He fumbles with it till it catches on the page, watching it burn until the flames start to get a little too enthusiastic.  

 

 **Lucy:** Shit, okay, bad idea.

 

Lucy blows on the page, then drops it and stamps out the fire, swearing to himself. A moment later, the piercing shriek of a smoke alarm. He swears more audibly, dragging the chair over to disconnect it.

 

 **Lucy:**  So it’s December now, meaning I haven’t had a real case in [flips through the calendar] two months? Since mid September. Calls have slowed down since Brown Wren and I -- haven’t been following up. I guess. Gonna become one of the many rent-past-due schmucks in this shithole, I --

 

 **Lucy:** I used to think I wasn’t like them.

 

He gets up, organizes a bunch of papers on the desk. Walks away from the desk, then comes back, sitting down hard. He's left the whiskey on the shelf.

 

 **Lucy:** I really need to stop drinking. Wit was right about that -- she. Goddamn it. I wish I could be angry at her, about the fact that she was right. But it only goes so deep, right, then it stops. [quietly]. I should stop.

 

 **Lucy:** I -- I don’t know. I’m going to make the sufganiyot tomorrow. Then I’ll. I don’t know, show up at Heavens’ party, give him hell a second time? No, I think showing up will be hell enough. For-- for one of us.

 

Pause. Lucy taps his finger on the recorder mic.

 

 **Lucy:** That's all I've got right now.

 

Cut tape.

* * *

 

_Dated: January 4, 12009_

 

_Label: Seer's Lake_

 

Roll tape. Lucy sits down in his chair, the wood creaking. A kettle whistles in the background. Lucy gets up, pours himself a mug of tea. Sits back down, sighing deeply.

 

 **Lucy:** I’ve got a few things circled -- I. I should make some calls. Have to catch up with rent--

 

He loses the thread, suddenly overwhelmed.

 

 **Lucy:** Found a bunch of old tapes today. Listened to some. I got -- I got as far as Niles’ funeral. Then I couldn't --

 

He trails off again, taking a sip of tea.

 

 **Lucy:** I used to tell stories, didn't I? Used to take cases, used to _do_ something. [Quietly, to himself] who says you can't do that anymore? [Pause] You. You can't.

 

Lucy stands up, flicking the blinds open.

 

 **Lucy:** [clears throat]. It's, ah. [Detective's drawl] It's another beautiful day in Farwolaeth City. Another beautiful, sunny, aimless morning. The people on the streets below, stupid and indifferent, go about each day as they did the last. They take the day in stride, as if each move they make doesn't make one step closer to tired, brittle bones. Tired, brittle bones that never knew any purpose and will end up being the dust that settles in Death Valley. Right where they began.

 

Lucy takes a sip of his tea.

 

 **Lucy:** My bones, too, are getting old. I've tried to maintain a meaningful existence. Harder than anyone I've ever known. [Pause as he turns back to his desk]. And yet we all meet the same, bitter end.

 

There is a creak of approaching footsteps. Lucy pays them no mind.

 

 **Lucy:** I hear that when you're alive, they say “Life ain't fair.” Well. Death ain't either, sister. [Pause. Sighs] I met this kid yesterday. Reminded me of myself--

 

The door opens sharply.

 

 **Autumn:** Woooooow, are you _seriously_ monologuing?

 

Cut tape.

 

*

 _Dated:_ None. Spacing of tapes indicated the same day.

 

Roll tape. The sound of footsteps, storming off. Lucy waits until they’ve faded completely before he speaks.

 

 **Lucy:** Damnit, that was close. I'll have to keep these tapes somewhere where she isn't going to snoop around. [Pause. A long, lingering sigh]. I can’t -- keep up the story around her. She’s got to see the note on the door, I don’t know. She should stop coming around here.

 

 **Lucy:** _I_ should stop. What I said to Heavens was -- well, that’s history now. All in a past that hasn’t changed. What's to say that I --

 

He lets it trail off with an exasperated gasp, then gets up from his desk, taking down the bottle of whiskey. He sits down hard, on the bed, taking a drink without a breath.

 

He breathes hard. Then takes another swig. Silence, for several minutes.

 

 **Lucy:** So how does this story go, then?

 

 **Lucy:** [drawl, unsteady and with a hint of a slur] I knew she was trouble the minute she walked in my door. She was like an old revolver: half-cocked and ready to go off at any second. The look on her face was sugary-sweet. “Cupcake”, I called her. But sweet things only spoil my appetite.

 

 **Lucy:** Ugh. What am I even saying.

 

Crash, static. Cut tape.

* * *

 

 

_Dated: January 4, 12009_

 

_Label: Near-to-Life Experience_

 

Lucy switches on the tape, sitting down heavily at his desk.

 

 **Lucy:** Oh god, holy shit. Hell of a way to sober up. My hands are still shaking. God. [Pauses, a long exhale]. I used to tell stories. Well. Here's one.

 

 **Lucy:** The guilt caught up to me when Autumn came to call. [Sighs] Heavens may deserve hell. As much as I do. [Pauses, reaching for his detective's drawl]. We both got more than we bargained for.

 

 **Lucy:** So I find his number, get on the phone. I mean hell, I hate thinking about Niles and I can't _stop_ , but maybe Heavens can. [Pause. His voice has gone somewhat back to conversational].

I don't know what I expected when he picked up, but definitely not a half-ramble about a detective rescue from a book I know he hasn't read. No, [bitter laugh], Heavens avoided detective novels even before we stopped speaking. [Pause, almost reflective] So I knew something was wrong. Being stupid and drunk as I was, I figured the kid had done something reckless-- possibly with Autumn. How bad could it be?

 

Lucy sighs deeply, tapping his finger bones on the desk. There's a slight skip in his touch.

 

 **Lucy:** I really should have asked that question more seriously. Steak's past caught up with him, triple time. When I jumped the stranger who answered the door he pulled a gun on me. Cold metal, smooth revolver. Then before I could even think he had me in a headlock, threw me onto the couch. [Pause] You know, I hadn't -- [he trails off]. God. It's hard to say it. I hadn't felt like that since I found Niles. But I didn't know what to call it then. It's helplessness. Gets into your bones, the hollows of your eyes. So that you know you're useless.

 

Lucy's chair drags on the floor as he gets up. Then he sits back down again almost immediately.

 

 **Lucy:** The story turned out different this time. So the two black hats, Fedora and Trilby they were called, and you can guess what they were wearing. They nattered back and forth at Steak while the rest of us look on. Big shocker for 'Vet most of all, probably. Poor kid. They were small potatoes compared to who came in next.  

 

Lucy makes a tsk of sorts, and then shakes out a cigarette, taking a few tries to light it.

 

 **Lucy:** He called himself Buck. Short, not as built as Steak, but with a cigarette burn glow in his eyes. This guy should have been locked up a long damn time ago. He had a hammer-- putting it to Helvetica's neck, threatening Autumn. I wanted to smash it through his skull. [Sighs] I kept my head down. Not just cause I felt like shit-- but because it would be better to be underestimated.

 

 **Lucy:** The guy starts trashing the place while Heavens nearly flips-- smashing the TV, ripping up the curtains. But it isn't till he starts roughing up Steak that things really get interesting. Heavens comes up with the kind of steel I've seen from him only a handful of times, lays on to Buck.

WHAM!

Bad guy actually goes down. But he gets up, nice and slow, watching Heavens like he's a fighting fly caught up in his web. Slow talk.

Then quick as a spider, grabs Heaven's hand to the table, Steak is on his feet, everyone is yelling. Buck has his hammer inches from Heavens’ wrist, and Steak is laying out his terms, making it damn clear that if Heavens is hurt he's not going _anywhere_ with Buck.

 

Lucy takes a drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke.

 

 **Lucy:** As much as-- I know it was hard on Niles, when Steak and Heavens got together. When he stopped being Heavens’ pet project. Heavens was the only person he really had as a friend. Other than me-- and I. I don't know. I don’t know about him and I still don’t. But what I’m trying to say is -- him and Steak really are good together. Even I can see that.

 

This seems to spark something in Lucy, he turns in his chair, fiddling with the blinds a moment. Then he turns back.

 

 **Lucy:** So Steak and Buck are arguing about some kind of “disrespect”, Buck is gesturing with the hammer, Steak is not backing down. But tough shit. It doesn't matter then, because the sirens are already starting to hit their ears. [Pauses, taking a drag of the cigarette] Heh. That kid, Helvetica, while everyone was distracted with Heavens’ heroics, dialed the emergency line and let the operators on the other end hear most of what was going on.

 

 **Lucy:** You know, I hope that doesn’t come back on Steak. I don’t know. Worry about that later. Point is, we weren’t out of hot water yet. Especially not ‘Vet. Buck turned on him the minute the damn kid admitted to calling the police.

 

Lucy pauses, wincing at the memory as if physically painful to him.

 

 **Lucy:** I wish I had -- but never mind. I don’t think even Steak could have stopped Buck from smashing the kid’s left index. What a way to start your death, right? Then all hell breaks loose, the two black hats are trying and failing to make excuses -- and that’s when -- that’s when Buck grabbed Autumn, started for the door. She was kicking and screaming of course-- till she had a gun between her eyes.

 

Lucy sucks breath in, hard.

 

 **Lucy:** Most of the time, all I've got is this empty space in my bones -- no flesh, no feeling, it all just passes through. But I swear, something in my chest stopped when that happened. I might have been fuzzy-- but I knew I had to do _something_.

 

 **Lucy:** I guess there was something of Marlowe still in me, because my voice wasn't shaking at all when I stood up and said to them:

“Hey, slow down-- you really think you're going to get through a hostage situation without all of you getting ID'd?”

That gave everyone half a second's pause. Being underestimated, I guess. Then one of the black hats piped up.

“Shut up and sit down, Wise guy. We've got a getaway, this isn't grade school.”

“Really? Through what, the service doors? I'll bet they already have those covered.”

“Yeah, that's why we have a hostage--”

“Trilby,” Buck looked up from where he was by the door, then threw Autumn to his other muscle, “Let the man speak.”

Steak is looking at me like he's hoping I'm not going to suggest what I'm about to. But I said it.

“I can get you out a place the police wouldn’t think about.”

 

Lucy pauses, letting out a huff of disbelief, almost. At himself.

 

 **Lucy:** Steak started up telling me not to -- [stops short, considering the story from a distance]. You know. I think he might have been playing Buck with that, trying to push him not to go with me. Smart guy. But the other black hat, Fedora, points his gun from Autumn to Heavens, which shuts Steak right up. So I tell them about the old elevator to what used to be the entrance, fifty some years ago. It still works. Comes out near some marble rubble, there's barely a road there.

I tell them I’ll take them there if they-- if they let Autumn go.

 

 **Lucy:** It was a bold ask, and you can guess how that went. Buck said.

“Not a chance, wise guy. She's our insurance,” He was glaring, but with that cigarette-lighter look in his eye again. And I’m thinking, it’s people like him . He was enjoying having something over me. I had to -- show I didn't give a damn. So I said,

“Fine, take Autumn with us. But you leave Steak for another day.”

 

 **Lucy:** I had him with that. He couldn't show how badly he wanted Steak -- not without losing more time. He looked to Steak, then said:

“You know about this? Know where it is?”

Steak sneered at him, “Why do you think I moved _here_? The view?”

He looked at Steak a long time then -- longer than I would have if I had the police breathing down my neck. And then he said to Autumn, “You better hope your boy can see us through.”

 

 **Lucy:** The alcohol was doing at least one damn thing right -- I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t feeling anything at all. Business as usual, with a murderer dragging my best frie-- my best girl down the hall to the ancient elevator. It was nothing but an iron cage, rusted all to hell. But I’d done some cases in the building, even used it before. I know it works. Buck sent one of the black hats down first, just to check. It was slow. Everyone was getting antsy.

 

 **Lucy:** The elevator chain screeched back up, and -- Fedora, I think it was, walks out. He said,

“It’s clean, boss -- and I made the call to Lor, he’ll be there by the time we’re down.”

Buck smiled all sickly, and said,

“You’re lucky. Trilby -- shoot them.”

 

 **Lucy:** I thought we were sunk, right then -- but I underestimated Autumn. She bit down _hard_ on Trilby’s arm -- I think at that point she’d already gotten ahold of his gun while we were waiting. Whatever it took, she got free from him and suddenly she was pointing the gun, steady as a master sniper, right between his eyes.

 

 **Lucy:** And she says, in that goddamn voice she uses on me sometimes,

“Just get in the elevator, nice and slow, boys.”

[Laughs, out of control, nervous], _Then_ I was scared. Either for her -- or -- or because she means so damn much to me and I hadn’t realized it till then.

Buck started laughing-- and they got in. They got in, the door slid shut with a rust-scream, and then all we could hear was the echo of his laughter in the elevator shaft.

 

 **Lucy:** As soon as we couldn’t hear it anymore, she dropped the gun. I didn’t even think, we just -- held each other. She was saying something I couldn’t make out over the fuzz in my ears about how scared she was, and all I could say was, “I know, sweetheart, I know, I know.” [Pause] She was amazing, though. I should have told her that.

 

He rubs his hands on his thighs, exhaling.

 

 **Lucy:** So. Good story, right? Redemption story, detective eventually saves the day, with the help of his -- you know what? I don’t care about the story. Right now, all I’m thinking about is how damn lucky we all are. Everyone is...mostly all right. For now.

 

 **Lucy:** I hope Autumn got home fine-- Helvetica, too. [Pause] I should call her.

 

He reaches for his phone, dialing the number quickly. Cut tape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love to hear from readers! Let me know how you're feeling about the format, about the twists, tired of Lucy's monologuing yet? Eheheh
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Next chapter: Lucy takes up a real case again, which might be the most important that he's ever had.


	4. January 6 -- 10, 12009: True Blue and Bloody, Ark, Seer's Lake Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy takes up a real case again, which might be the most important that he's ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, on the offchance that anyone was waiting for this! I got distracted by the one-shot I added to the series, plus Christmas. Anyways, hope you enjoy this!

_Dated: January 6, 12009_

 

_Label: True Blue and Bloody_

 

A tentative fumble with the recorder buttons. Lucy sets the tape deck down carefully, sitting back down at his desk to face Steak. There is a faint bubble of water in the background.

 

 **Lucy:** You sure you want to record this?

 

 **Steak:** Yeah. Ya know. I taught those bastards everything they know about covering things up. So if things go south. I want it on record. Even if it doesn’t help anyone’s case, I-- I mean, you know how it is, Lu, right? That’s why you do these tapes, because you gotta leave something of who you were behind.

 

 **Lucy:** [Pause] You know, I never thought _I’d_ be the one saying this, but that got to the gallows pretty damn fast.

 

 **Steak:** You do realize what I’m asking yah to do, right?

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, I do. I guess, if anything, I’ve got enough tapes to leave...something of who I am. [Pause, something of a grim silence. He’s listened to the tapes recently. They don’t paint a pretty picture].

 

 **Steak:** Just don’t go doing anything stupid, and no one besides me is gonna be in the line of fire.

 

The kettle whistles, they both start. Steak’s chair scrapes on the ground.

 

 **Lucy:** I got it.

 

A tense quiet stretches out while Lucy pours out tea. Steak takes his with sugar, no cream. Lucy takes his with both.

 

Lucy flips through some sheets of paper, arranging them into a stack.

 

 **Lucy:** You -- you talked to Heavens about--

 

 **Steak:** No one but _me_ , Lu. [Creak of the chair as he sits back, sighs]. That’s what we’re here for, right?

 

 **Lucy:** [Uncomfortable pause]. So he doesn't know... anything? It's just going to look like you left him, ran off to work for Buck again? After all that happened?

 

 **Steak:** It'll probably look worse than that. I gotta make him believe it.

 

 **Lucy:** Jesus.

 

 **Steak:** If-- if they go after him, they'll know if he's lying. They'll get it out of him, and then both of us are toast. But I know Buck. He's reckless and likes killing, but he ain't stupid. It's bad form to go after Goods twice, especially after he's already made a statement about Buck. [to himself] There's only so much bribing and hiding in Necropolis he can do.

 

Lucy takes a careful sip of his tea.

 

 **Lucy:** And you're sure you don't wanna involve the cops sooner?

 

 **Steak:** Can’t. Not until we've got the evidence in hand. You're the best I’ve got. Sorry to put the pressure on but-- that's it.

 

Steak takes a drink of his a little too quickly, coughing at the heat of it.

 

 **Lucy:** Jesus, you're really out of options, huh.

 

 **Steak:** We can't trust em. There are moles everywhere. [sighs]. I should know, I set a lot of em up.

 

 **Lucy:** You _were_ pretty good at that.

 

 **Steak:** [wincing]. Yeah. You too. Keep forgetting how much you know. Heavens showed me that file, you know -- you could have put me away three times over. I mean it's cause of that, Lu. I've got other options but you're just the best of 'em. And like I said, you did save our asses at the end there.

 

 **Lucy:** Autumn did. I didn't --

 

 **Steak:** Both of you, anyways. She's a good kid. Are you two, uhh--

 

Brief pause, where Steak presumably gestures vaguely and Lucy turns red.

 

 **Lucy:** Oh, um, no we're just. We're friends.

 

 **Steak:** Okay, well. Keep her close. Ya never know when ya have to -- [trails off, clearing his throat]. Check in on Goods for me, sometime? [Pause]. Okay, I know that's a bad idea.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, um. I want to, but. I doubt I'd be who he'd want to see.

 

 **Steak:** You'd be surprised. He's very sentimental. Always said you were one of the most interesting greenies-- ach. Sorry, not helping.

 

Lucy sips his tea considering how to broach the subject carefully.

 

 **Lucy:** You were there, Steak. You know what I said to him.

 

 **Steak:** Yeah. [Pause] Think the worst thing was. You were only half full of shit. And Goods knows it. We had a talk about it at the time. He does have that thing about helping people, and it's not as good as he wants it to be. But with me, I know what he's doing, and he knows it. So we work with it.

 

 **Lucy:** That's. That's good.

 

 **Steak:** So for whatever that's worth. I mean, you shouldn't have said it, but he doesn't hate you for it neither.

 

 **Lucy:** Right. I wish I hadn't, I -- [he trails off, thinking better of whatever he was going to say]. So. Tuesdays, three in the morning, at the coordinate--

 

 **Steak:** [Cutting him off] Maybe don't put that on the tape. Matter of fact. Better to memorize it, get rid of that page.

 

 **Lucy:** For sure. I'll burn it later.

 

 **Steak:** And I'll be there with every bit of dirt I can drag up. For as long as we need to to put Buck away. All of em.

 

He says this with relish, the words resonating in the silence afterwards. Lucy's chair creaks.

 

 **Lucy:** Do you think they'll --

 

He stops himself, mumbling something like 'never mind’.

 

 **Steak:** Go on, say what you wanna?

 

 **Lucy:** I mean, if you were doing this for the police, you'd be an informant. It might be harder to make your case without that insider start, even if we've got it documented.

 

 **Steak:** What, are you asking if they're gonna arrest me? They shouldn't think twice. I built that sicko's empire and I should burn with it.

 

Lucy twitches towards the tape recorder, but doesn't switch it off.

 

 **Steak:** [quietly, more intense] You know most of what I did. I -- you don't forget that. Not after twenty years, not after finding ways to do better. There's a lot of people I stole a whole death from. And I remember every single one of them. [Pause, sips tea] I don't want to leave Goods, but. Feels like a weight off my shoulders to finally start paying my dues for that. Not running anymore.

 

 **Lucy:** Okay. [clears his throat, trying to find the right words]. I mean, you know it was Good Heavens’ call to give you a second chance at death. But I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think you deserved it as well, so--

 

 **Steak:** Did he know?

 

Lucy stops suddenly, as if unsure he'd actually heard Steak bring up Niles.

 

 **Lucy:** Um. No. No, he didn't.

 

 **Steak:** Okay, that's. Okay.

 

A beat of silence, then Steak exhales. They both take a sip of their tea, Steak finishing his and placing it on the desk.

 

 **Steak:** I don't know how long it's going to take. They've gotten sloppy, what happened last week was sloppy. But Buck has always been good at this shit. I'll have to be careful for the first little while. And if I miss our meeting -- don't hesitate, just take whatever we've got to the feds, soon as you can, y'hear?

 

 **Lucy:** Understood, yeah.

 

 **Steak:** Right. Guess that's it. Thanks for -- all of this, Lu. Sorry to dump it on you.

 

 **Lucy:** No, I mean -- happy to do it. Well, happy is the wrong word, but. Glad to help.

 

Lucy says the last like he's surprised to hear himself say it. Steak nods gruffly, a little lost for words. There is a beat of silence, then Lucy taps his fingers on the desk.

 

 **Lucy:** One more thing….

 

 **Steak:** Yeah?

 

 **Lucy:** Do you know if that kid -- the new guy, Helvetica, is he okay?

 

 **Steak:** Mmf. [distantly] Pretty sure he got patched up, yeah.

 

 **Lucy:** Do you know how I can get in contact with him?

 

There's a beat of silence where Steak considers this. Then he fumbles in his pocket for a pen.

 

 **Steak:** Yeah. Let me write down his address for you.

 

 **Lucy:** Thanks, Steak.

 

 **Steak:** Don't worry about it. Oh, I almost forgot. Take this.

 

A paper is slid across the desk, thin enough to be an envelope. Lucy turns it over in his hands.

 

 **Lucy:** What's this?

 

 **Steak:** I'm hiring you, aren't I? Just. Pay your goddamn rent, Lu.

 

 **Lucy:** Oh. Yeah, um. Thanks Steak. Thanks again.

 

 **Steak:** Don't mention it.

 

Lucy gets up from the desk chair at the same time as Steak. After a moment, they shake hands. Lucy cuts the tape.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dated: January 9, 12009_

 

_Label: Ark_

 

Roll tape. The soundscape is immediately different from the inside of Lucy’s apartment, the rustle of trees in the wind, the throatless squawk of the bone-birds that inhabit Farwolaeth City. A car passes occasionally. It is otherwise quiet.

 

 **Lucy:** [Detective’s drawl] So. I go to look at the board again. Steak’s envelope from the trade-off that morning still sitting on my desk. [to himself] Mmf. I shouldn’t have. I mean. [Detective’s drawl] I know that I need to look at what he's brought in soon. But something about the dusty twine connecting bones, ashes, stories and questions I don’t know the answer to… something’s calling me again.

 

He pauses, fumbling to light a cigarette. Exhales.

 

 **Lucy:** That’s when I see the brochure. Little bit of a burn mark eating at one of the edges. I don’t remember doing that. It has an address, to go to this temple on the other side of town. I. [he takes a long drag of the cigarette]. I should get started on Steak’s case right away, I mean, hell. His life is on the line. But I think about what that toothless dead man said, about what you _believe_.

 

One of the bone-birds caws, which seems to give Lucy pause. He smokes for close to a minute, thinking about how to say this.

 

 **Lucy:** Maybe. Maybe I don’t need to believe anything, but I could use some goddamn faith that this isn’t something else that’s going to go to hell just because I’ve got some skin in the game. I had cases that went well. I was a detective -- I. I am.

 

 **Lucy:** [Detective's drawl] So, I gather up the cash-- what’s left after the rent was paid-- take a cab downtown. The building is taller than I expected. Still ugly brick, towering over in flat, huge rectangles that expand into the trees behind it. Can’t see where the layers stop. And I think to myself, this was a bad idea. [Exhales]  And then I go in.

 

 **Lucy:** It's bigger on the inside than it looks. The ceiling you notice first, cut into an octagonal skylight, but with patterns set in concentric circles that make the sharp edges shift if you stare too long. Just opposite the entrance is an alcove cut into the wall. On another side is a decorated cross, surrounded by lit candles, and next to it, a wooden table covered in fruit, names written on envelopes left in neat piles out front. The light comes not just from the bright sun above, but also from colored glass windows in little rectangles around the eight sides of the room. It's beautiful. The beautiful of Yule or Springtide, that gets between your bones and makes you almost feel alive.

 

He takes a drag from the cigarette, almost bitter.

 

 **Lucy:** [almost to himself] I don't feel anything. [Detective drawl] On the edges are these wooden benches. A few people sitting there murmuring to themselves, or poring over books. A few kneeling on the ground, too. I take a seat, glad I'm not there for any kind of sermon. The first thing I wonder, looking at the tilted tops of people's skulls, is whether Steak ever found his way here. Then Niles.

 

 **Lucy:** Hard to imagine him shutting up long enough to end up somewhere like this. [Takes a drag of the cigarette, coughs]. I guess it was hard to imagine he'd put a bullet in his head too. [Pause] I wish-- I wish I wanted to know more about him. Wish I was a good enough person to want that. Even Heavens, I figure, wanted that while Niles was still with us. Never mind now.

 

He drops the cigarette, grinding it to the pavement.

 

 **Lucy:** Maybe it's only good people that feel something in temples. I don't know. I sit there for a good half an hour, thinking myself around the circles on the ceiling, getting lost in the labyrinthine patterns. No one speaks. I don't know why I expected people to talk to each other. Don't know why I wanted that. After a while, I open up one of the books -- mmf, not really books. The one I have at least, isn't a continuous story. Just words, a few on every page.

Faith. Faith. Breath.

Sin. Sin. Sin.

Om. Namah. Shivaya.

Those last ones taste unfamiliar in my mouth, though I know what they mean. Maybe it was something I knew in life. Maybe something I didn't. Death stripped all those details, nothing left but bones.

 

He rubs his hands together, the bones making a peculiar scraping noise.

 

 **Lucy:** I put that down pretty damn quick. As I'm leaving, I catch sight of it. The ark. I know the name of it before I read the small sign. Next to the inset pillars, the velvet curtains covering -- well I can't see it. But something in my chest-- in my ribs knows it.

 

He stops rubbing his hands together, exhales hard.

 

 **Lucy:** I get out of there damn quick. I don't want to look at the scrolls in the Ark. I don't -- I don't want to _want_ that. [Pause] So I'm outside now, thinking about how to make sense of that. [Long pause]. Thinking about what Wit said, she -- [sighs].

 

 **Lucy:** I still wish I could be angry about how damn right she was. But it's true. I'm not the only one on this case, not the only one wondering about what the hell came before. And why.

 

The bone-birds caw again.

 

 **Lucy:** I'm going to get in touch with Helvetica. [Pause]. Tomorrow. No, tonight. Who knows if I'll survive much longer after that, with what I'm doing for Steak. See what the first files are like.

 

Long silence, the clatter of bone-bird wings flying. Cut tape.

 

*

 

_Dated: Seemingly later the same day._

 

Quiet evening soundscape from Lucy's office apartment. He taps his fingers on the desk.

 

 **Lucy:** So. I forgot that the first thing Steak said he'd send me was just a newspaper. Just to trial the drop, before he passed me any useful information. [Laughs at himself]. God. I guess I'm more nervous about this than I thought.

 

Taps his fingers again, a slight shake in them.

 

 **Lucy:** Can't be forgetting things like that. Or-- more important things. [Pause]. Anyways. I said I'd get in touch with Helvetica. Yeah.

 

Long, hesitant pause. Cut tape.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dated: January 10, 12009_

 

_Label: Seer's Lake, Part 2_

 

It is a bright, cloudless day at Seer's Lake, only a few cirrus clouds streaking the skyline. Lucy stands, studying the bone-fish darting back and forth beneath his reflection.

 

There's nothing new here.

 

 **Lucy:** Nothing left to do but wait.

 

He lights a cigarette, contemplating the ripples in the water. Footsteps approach, a recently dead man, loosening the green bow tie around his neck as he finishes his climb up the stairs.

 

 **Helvetica:** [slightly out of breath] Hi.

 

 **Lucy:** Hey. So I'm guessing the stairs don't make the climb that much easier, huh.

 

Helvetica blinks, unused to hearing Lucy's voice outside of the detective drawl he's heard from him in the past. It's not so different, but there's something brighter in it, half of it less tired, the other half exhausted.

 

 **Helvetica:** No, no they really don't.

 

 **Lucy:** Do you mind if I leave my recorder on? Old habits.

 

He holds up the tape recorder, to Helvetica's bemusement.

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh, um, sure. I mean I don't mind. So. What are we doing here?

 

 **Lucy:** Thought….maybe you'd want to talk. About being dead, or whatever the hell just happened with Steak and his ex-gang. Is your finger patched up okay?

 

Lucy puts the tape recorder down on the sand. Surprisingly, it still picks up their voices quite well.

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh-- Oh. Just talk? That's it.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, um. That's it.

 

 **Helvetica:** And the mysterious note slipped under the door at one in the morning?

 

 **Lucy:** Tch -- just to keep the story going.

 

He looks away, taking a drag of the cigarette. Helvetica almost smiles for the first time in a few days, realizing something about Lucy.

 

 **Helvetica:** Anyone ever tell you that's a bit much?

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. Did it keep you from thinking about it for a bit?

 

 **Helvetica:** Thinking about -- oh. Yeah, I guess it did.

 

They stand in silence for a moment, Helvetica waiting for Lucy to say more. When he doesn't, Helvetica reaches into the bank for a handful of rocks, sifting through them to find something worth skipping. He tosses it into the water without making much of an effort to make it skip.

 

 **Lucy:** So. Why were you up at one in the morning?

 

 **Helvetica:** I don't know. Why do we need to sleep at all?

 

He throws another stone, glaring at it petulantly. Lucy smirks, as if seeing something of himself in the toss.

 

 **Lucy:** Heh. I don't know. But we do need to. Mmf-- not that I'm good at that either. [Pauses, staring at the ripples]. Last time I thought about this was before --

 

He trails off, taking a drag of his cigarette.

 

 **Helvetica:** Before?

 

 **Lucy:** Never mind. Did. Did Heavens tell you about Niles?

 

 **Helvetica:** No, um. He was going to but. He didn't get to.

 

 **Lucy:** Ah.

 

It's then that Helvetica catches the flash of regret in Lucy's eyes, just before Lucy picks up a stone from the ground, skips it twice. When he looks up again, he looks almost sad, rather than half-bitter.

 

 **Helvetica:** You know… you could tell me.

 

 **Lucy:** I could. Depends on if you need the mystery, or not.

 

Helvetica considers this, picking out a good stone from his hand, tossing it lightly enough that it does a skip and a half.

 

 **Helvetica:** Do you want to tell me?

 

 **Lucy:** I don't know. [Pauses, staring at the calming surface of the lake]. It's true that I don't really know you.

 

 **Helvetica:** In spite of near-death experiences. [Laughs], um, second death? That's really a thing?

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. It really is.

 

Lucy scuffs his shoes in the dirt, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

 

 **Lucy:** The other reason I asked you up here -- thought I should apologize. I mean. I thought a mystery would keep your mind off death a little. But Autumn was right. It wasn't fair to drag you into the shit between me and Heavens. [Sighs]. I don't even know you.

 

 **Helvetica:** Well, I'm in it now. [Pause, smiles a tiny bit]. Apology accepted.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, you are in it now, huh. Well. I should -- mmf. I should tell you at least that much. About me and Heavens.

 

 **Helvetica:** You don't have to, really.

 

 **Lucy:** [Smiles a bit sadly]. But you want to know, yeah? And you're in it now.

 

Helvetica pauses, and half shrugs. Lucy seems to be able to see that as a yes. He stubs out the cigarette, crushing it beneath his leather shoe.

 

 **Lucy:** The short version is. Heavens...he let Niles down. Not in a way that was really his fault, but he's always been a busybody. Always helping people, or “helping” them by giving them a push in one direction or other.

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh. Does Niles feel the same way?

 

 **Lucy:** Niles is dead.  

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh. Oh I'm sorry.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, he, um. He and Heavens used to be close, sort of, anyways. Work partners. Niles kind of went off the rails, Heavens replaced him with Steak-- both happened at the same time. Shit timing. [Half detective drawl]. Hell always breaks loose all at once. And --

 

Lucy coughs, taking too long a drag on his cigarette. Helvetica goes to pat him on the back, then thinks better of it, remembering the first time he grabbed Lucy's arm. Lucy doesn't move away, despite them being almost as close together.

 

 **Helvetica:** [gently, but perhaps a little too insistent] And?

 

 **Lucy:** And Niles killed himself.

 

 **Helvetica:** [sharp breath, then sighs]. Oh.

 

He considers this carefully, another stone squeezed tight in his hand. Then he notices Lucy, almost immobile for the first time since they arrived.

 

 **Helvetica:** I'm sorry -- I. I should have said that first. Just seemed like -- such a small thing to say.

 

 **Lucy:** Is what it is. I mean. It's been years, now. He's gone, that's it. Death goes on.

 

 **Helvetica:** A few days ago I didn't know it could end. [Tosses the stone in his hand]. Guess now I can understand why someone would want that.

 

 **Lucy:** [suddenly intense, alarmed] Jesus, Vet, you're not--

 

 **Helvetica:** No, no that's not what I-- no. What I mean is that none of it makes that much sense, you know? Death is a second life, but with no memory of the first? Who's to say what comes after isn't more of the same?

 

Lucy's face shifts implacably, somewhere between fear and hope.

 

 **Lucy:** I think about that. All the goddamn time.

 

Helvetica laughs, and Lucy can't help it. He does too.

 

 **Helvetica:** I'm not sure if I want to know how to stop thinking about it or not. I mean, how does anyone?

 

 **Lucy:** Kid--

 

 **Helvetica:** Not a kid--

 

 **Lucy:** Right, sorry, Vet. If I knew, I'd tell you. It's a case -- well I'd call it a case-- a case I've been thinking about a long time.

 

 **Helvetica:** [Considers this, amused] So. Are there files on this?

 

 **Lucy:** Nothing that means anything but -- yeah. Guess you could say that.

 

 **Helvetica:** Well. If nothing else it's a good distraction. [catches sight of Lucy's wince]. That is, if you want to show them to me. 

Lucy rubs his hands together. The sound is different to Helvetica, one he hasn't considered that bones could make. He catches himself before he imitates the motion.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, um. What do you want to know?

 

 **Helvetica:** God, anything. When Mr. Good Heavens said I'd have to get a job, it just hit me all at once-- I knew somewhere in the pit of my stomach-- no, I don't have a stomach, I don't know! Whatever I did in life, I had a job, I had an apartment, I probably did taxes, do they have taxes here?

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, kinda.

 

 **Helvetica:** See, that's crazy! I've got no clue what I thought the afterlife would be like. But I know I wouldn't have thought it would be like this. [More quietly]. I don't even know how I died. But I'd just settle for knowing what “Helvetica” means.

 

 **Lucy:** Oh. That one I did dig up.

 

Helvetica's eye sockets pop out. Then he frowns.

 

 **Helvetica:** If you dragged me up here to tell me to “start at the beginning”--

 

 **Lucy:** No, no -- it's a font. [Seeing Helvetica's confusion] like a type of text, you know, a typeface. I found out about it at the Sternal Library [Shrugs at Helvetica's disbelief]  Yeah, um. Not the first place I looked.

 

 **Helvetica:** Wow, um. I feel kind of stupid now. Not knowing that -- or thinking it would be -- I don't know.

 

 **Lucy:** One thing I have learned about this case is-- nothing's ever gonna feel like answers. None of it.

 

 **Helvetica:** [to himself] Okay. Okay. [Turns to Lucy]. Thank you, Lucy. This was -- probably the most sense I've gotten out of anyone since I died. 

 

 **Lucy:** Jesus, don't expect that on the regular.

 

 **Helvetica:** I mean it!

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. Vet, thanks.

 **Helvetica:**  I can't -- I'm sorry, I can't stay for long today. Mr. Good Heavens wanted to meet after this and the note came sort of -- unexpected. But can we um, do this again soon? 

 

 **Lucy:** [startled, slightly relieved] Oh yeah, of course, I. It was good to talk.

 

 **Helvetica:** It really, really was. Um. How do I get in touch?

 

 **Lucy:** I'll give you my phone.

 

He takes out a notepad, scribbles something barely legible. Helvetica takes it with a smile. Lucy returns it, tentative but determined. They look away, about to go their separate ways--

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh, don't forget your tape deck!

 

He picks it up off the ground. Lucy twitches strangely when he passes it into his hand. It's not something he's given to anyone else.

 

 **Lucy:** Thanks again.

 

Cut tape.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the temple on the design of the Rothko chapel, in the exterior. 
> 
> The mantra Lucy states is a popular one in Hindu, Om Namah Shivaya, meaning loosely “adoration to Lord Shiva". I may elaborate on my headcanons regarding language in the world of the dead in a later chapter. Suffice it to say, Lucy did not speak sanskrit in life. 
> 
> An Ark is a Jewish religious altar meant to contain the Torah scrolls. You can tell me what you thought of Lucy's reaction to his rememberances :) I'd be curious. 
> 
> I nudged the chapter count again, because this one got long. 
> 
> Would love to hear any and all thoughts as always!
> 
> Next chapter: Lucy gets more help than he bargained for on Steak's case -- and gets in over his head in more ways than one.


	5. January 16 -- February 1, 12009: Missing Index, Pawn Shop Stakeout, Femurian Breakfast, Loose Floorboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long time to update if anyone is waiting on this!

_Dated:_ _January 16, 12009_

 

_Label: Missing Index_

 

 **Lucy:** [Detective's drawl] So I got this week's drop from Steak. This time, I'm not wasting any time, back to the office, get the envelope open. He's sent me a lot. Mostly leads, where to look for evidence of Buck's crimes. I've got a few addresses to follow up on after this, in the part of town where cigarettes choke up the gutters and the alleyways smell like piss. So, not that far from here.

 

Lucy shakes out a cigarette of his own, his lighter clicking. 

 

 **Lucy:** [Normal voice]. It's not as bad as all that. 

 

 **Lucy:** I went around to Heavens’ neighborhood to look into one of the leads. Jewelery forgery. Course it takes a better eye than mine to spot a fake. Not the first time I've needed that kind of skill set but -- the first time in a while. Last time I asked Heavens to help me out. 

 

 **Lucy:** He was happy to do it, then. Feels like such a long time ago. I wish I'd made a tape about that case. [Pause, exhaling smoke]. I wish I could talk to Heavens about this one. I really, truly do. 

 

Lucy shuffles through some papers on his desk. Crumples one up of unknown origin, tosses it aside. 

 

 **Lucy:** Herringbone's was closed early too. That's something, I guess. He always did pick his friends well. So at least. I can tell Steak he wasn't on his own with all of it. 

 

 **Lucy:** See. Heavens always -- had things looking a certain way, he keeps up appearances. But he means well, and there's sincerity in it too. It's. I think to him, it helps. Probably why he steered me into the detective work, I don't know. 

 

 **Lucy:** He’s been dead a lot longer than I’ve been. 

 

Lucy leaves the tape recorder on, getting up to fix himself some coffee. He’s pacing about the room, considering his words carefully. 

 

 **Lucy:** I don’t know if I should be saying this on tape. I know he -- well, shit. He said he didn’t tell this to a lot of people, just close confidantes. [affecting Good Heavens’ accent, without derision] Those who needed to hear it. [normal voice] Guess it helped me then. And if I -- well, I want to think out loud about it a minute. 

 

 **Lucy:** Maybe I’ll record over this after. I don’t know.

 

He sits back down heavily, setting his mug of coffee down. 

 

 **Lucy:** So after I’d been eight months dead, working at that book store and still going to Heavens with my questions. Still getting snide answers from Niles -- Heavens took me in for tea. In that older apartment he used to have; not like the one he’s got with Steak. Fewer paintings, smaller windows. A lot of faded doileys. 

 

He takes a slow sip of the coffee. 

 

 **Lucy:** So after he’s set out the china teacups, poured out the English Breakfast-- it's mid afternoon at that point, but never mind-- he looks me in the eye and says "Lucille. I'd very much like to tell you the story of my death. I don't share it with many others." So...earnest and serious. Course I said I'd love to hear it. So he tells me. About appearing on the outskirts of town screaming; looking up at the stars. His eyes falling on the distant twinkle of Farwolaeth City and murmuring "Good Heavens" to himself. 

 

 **Lucy:** [sips coffee]. He said he was out there staring at those stars, trying to put a name to where he was and _who_ he was for hours. Then he hears a scream. Another one dead. 

 

 **Lucy:** See Heavens-- I don't know how long exactly he's been dead for, like I said. But it was long enough for there to be no greeters where he was. He said he was the first. You'd think this was the kind of thing they'd keep on record somewhere; but history is a funny thing in the land of the dead. They mostly write the things down that don't change. So if you open up a book about Farwolaeth City. It'll tell you that greeters have been here as long as folks can remember. 

 

Lucy picks up his abandoned cigarette, taking am absent-minded drag. 

 

 **Lucy:** I don't know what that says about how long Heavens has been dead. But what I do know is this: he and that new guy, who popped up with the name Kite, walked all the way to the city. Took them over a day. The city was expecting them -- back then it turned out they didn't know shit about where the dead might appear. Or they just assumed everyone would walk towards the city they could see. 

 

 **Lucy:** When we were in his sitting room -- Heavens got so quiet when he said; "if it wasn't for the need to guide Kite to safety, I would have been so lost. I didn't know then how rare it was for two souls to be located in the same place at evenings -- it's taken years to establish the patterns for appearance." [Lucy pauses a long time, considering whether to put this to words] "So, you see-- our death presents to us our callings in miracles we don't expect." 

 

 **Lucy:** I've thought about the way he said that a long time. Then, I just put down the teacup and asked him if he thought that was the same way when we were alive. He. He didn't have much to say about that. Probably would have put it on the board if he did. 

 

 **Lucy:** He was always trying to get people to fit...somewhere. Hell, he found this for me, I know that. It got me by. Didn't change anything, though. [Pause]. Still. Shouldn't have said what I did to him. 

 

 **Lucy:** It's just a hell of a story he's got. I'm still not sure he'd want me to put this on tape but -- I don't know. With everything I'm doing for Steak, if it all goes south, for me and Heavens. Someone should know. Someone should know there was no such thing as Greeters before Good Heavens died, no matter what the brochures suggest. That at one time, we just wandered in all those miles, naked to the bones and no one caring who we saw or where we ended up before coming to the city and getting shunted into public housing. He knew it would -- be easier to start death with a helping hand. Everyone gets the same start. 

 

 **Lucy:** You know I said that to Niles once, when he was giving me shit for thinking out loud about Heavens saying that one day. Course Niles knew. Of course. Course Niles thought it didn't matter, that it was just Heavens trying to force rhyme and reason onto his little storybook world. [Pause]. Yeesh. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. It's a good thing Steak…

 

Lucy trails off, suddenly remembering where Steak is now. 

 

 **Lucy:** Anyways. Should go. I've got a shop to stake out. 

 

Cut tape. 

 

*

 _Dated:_ _January 17, 12009_

 

_Label: Pawn Shop Stakeout_

 

 **Lucy:** [whisper] Right, so. Gotta be quiet. 

 

The pause lasts for more than five minutes. A dog barks, sirens sound in the distance. Lucy starts slightly when a garbage can is knocked over in an alleyway below.

 

 **Lucy:** [whisper] Nothing to worry about. I’m just-- waiting for someone to get here. See if they pass anything off -- [quiet hiss] oh _shit._

 

The gentle approach of footsteps. The voices on tape are hard to make out. 

 

 **Voice 1:** [deep, gravelled] What you got for me today?

 

 **Voice 2:** Pure grade Maxille. 

 

The barest sound of Lucy stifling a gasp. The voices continue.

 

 **Voice 1:** How many pounds you got?

 

 **Voice 2:** Four.

 

 **Voice 1:** Huh. Steep at the price but I’ve got buyers. 

 

There is a furtive amount of shuffling below. Lucy hardly breathes. Boots dragged heavy along gravel, something heavy changing hands. The heavy close of the back door. Silence.

 

A car door slamming in the distance, starting up, driving away.

 

 **Lucy:** Well. Shit. Guess this is going to become evidence. 

 

Pause, as Lucy stands upright with a slight crack to his bones. Picks up the tape. 

 

 **Lucy:** Probably shouldn't be saying that on tape, even about a dead man. Still. Not bad for a night's work. 

 

Cut tape. 

 

*

 

 _Dated:_ _January 21, 12009_

 

_Label: Femurian Breakfast_

 

Roll tape. There is a long silence. The sound of a spoon stirring in coffee. A tentative sip.

 

 **Lucy:** [quietly] Goddamn it. [Normal voice]. That really could have gone better. 

 

He pauses, taking a longer draught of coffee. It's evening, quite late at this point. 

 

 **Lucy:** I went to talk to Heavens. It. It didn't go that well.  [Quietly] I don't know what I was thinking, I-- 

 

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. He starts in his chair, then gets up. He stops, considering the tape recorder, then decides to leave it on. When he opens the door, he leaves the chain on at first. 

 

 **Lucy:** Oh, um. Vet. Hey. You okay? 

 

He undoes the chain on the door, looking tired but attentive in the dim half-light of the hallway. Helvetica hesitates. 

 

 **Helvetica:** I guess so? I mean, no, but --

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah, come in.

 

He gestures awkwardly to the chair by the desk, on the other side of the room. 

 

 **Helvetica:** So do you want to put that tape on, or? 

 

 **Lucy:** It’s already running. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Sorry to come like this. I tried calling but-- is it okay for me to be here? 

 

 **Lucy:** Oh yeah, um. How did you get my address?

 

 **Helvetica:** Your office is in the phone book. I figured it was a long shot but I didn't know you lived here as well. 

 

Lucy laughs self-deprecatingly.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. [Pause] Oh, um, do you want coffee? 

 

 **Helvetica:** I shouldn't, no. I'm trying to sleep better. 

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. I should too, I just. Some shit with Heavens, mmf, never mi--

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh no. I wanted to talk about Mr. Good Heavens too. I'm worried about him. Well. I also wish he was around more, too because. Damnit I've been dead for what, two weeks, and I still want answers! Or at least... something.

 

He drops his hands. Lucy studies him sympathetically, opening his mouth, and then closing it.

 

 **Lucy:** Wish I could say that Heavens could give you that. But. M'sorry, Vet. When Heavens was my Greeter, he wasn't perfect, but I can't say he wasn't good. I didn't have an easy time of it with death either. [Short, bitter laugh] Still don't. But he used to...give me books, suggest things to do when I came by. Honestly, him and Niles were very good cop, bad cop back then. [Sips coffee]. Sorry, this isn't helpful, bringing up Niles again.

 

 **Helvetica:** It's better than nothing. What books did he give you? Detective novels?

 

 **Lucy:** God, no, Heavens considers that stuff to be [imitating his voice] “a tad bit too formulaic for my tastes”. It was usually heavy lit that I had trouble finishing. [Glances to the bookshelf] Oh, but there was one he gave me…

 

Lucy gets up, studying the rows of novels. He goes still when his eyes fall on the book with the orange cover, his eyes sad. Then he turns back to Helvetica. 

 

 **Lucy:** Sorry, Vet. I don't know where I put it. If you want a distraction, though, this one is my favourite Philip Marlowe. 

 

He tugs a novel from the shelf, its corners dog-eared and it's cover folded. Helvetica takes it with a tentative smile. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Alright, I'll give it a shot. 

 

 **Lucy:** Some of the best advice Heavens ever gave me was to go to the library. Just read a while. That helped. 

 

 **Helvetica:** I'll. I'll try that. Thank you. [Pause. Helvetica fiddles with his shirt sleeves] Do you think he's all right? 

 

 **Lucy:** Who, Heavens? No. Not after Steak and....not after the conversation we just had. [Pause] Do you...want to hear about it? None of it was good. 

 

 **Helvetica:** If you want to tell me, I do. 

 

 **Lucy:** Thanks, Vet. I. I guess I do. Anyways, I figured...he might want someone to talk to after Steak -- 

 

 **Helvetica:** I can't believe Steak did that to him! [More quietly] Sorry, I. Sometimes I really can't believe it. They seemed so good together. I didn't know them very long, but-- 

 

 **Lucy:** [distantly guilty]. Yeah. They were. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted. You went to see him? 

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. [Long exhale]. I thought. Maybe it would help, but too much history between us. No matter how much he pretends it’s all water under the bridge. He -- yeah. Chased me off. I’ve never seen him that angry, I didn’t think he -- well. You’re right to be worried about him. 

 

 **Helvetica:** He chased you off? 

 

 **Lucy:** I mean, history. Some of it I guess he’s thought about saying a while. Doesn’t stop him from inviting him to his Yuletide party every year, mind you -- Ste-- I thought he’d want to bury the hatchet. That was stupid. Not now he wouldn’t. 

 

 **Helvetica:** [after a pause]. He probably wants something to be angry about.

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah.

 

 **Helvetica:** Not that it isn’t unfair to you! You don’t have anything to do with Steak leaving. 

 

 **Lucy:** Not that unfair. When Niles died, I said some things to him I shouldn’t have. A lot of things, at Niles’ funeral. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh. 

 

 **Lucy:** False charity. That's what I called him on at Niles funeral. That's what he called me on too. Guess it probably hurt the same, hearing them from me. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Well. You know what they say about an eye for an eye…

 

 **Lucy:** Yeah. I know I deserve it. 

 

 **Helvetica:** No! No I mean-- that it just makes the world blind. 

 

Lucy glances back to Helvetica, meeting his eyes with a haunted stare. Then turns away, eyes to the splintered floorboards. 

 

 **Lucy:** Guess so. But there's something to be said for just. Letting it be, I guess. I'm doing what I can. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Yeah. If you have to leave it you should. 

 

 **Lucy:** Nah, I meant-- never mind. [He clears his throat, conscious of what he's just almost revealed. Helvetica remains unconcerned].  Actually, if you feel up to it, maybe go see Heavens? Could bring him some Femurian Breakfast tea, that's his favorite blend. See if he could use the company. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Yes. Yes! Bringing him tea sounds like something I can do. Then I can feel like I’m doing...something.

 

 **Lucy:** [smiling tiredly]. Damn. You’re a good k-- you’re a good person, ‘Vet.

 

 **Helvetica:** Oh! Thank you. I try to be. I figure you are too. 

 

 **Lucy:** I-- [stops himself short]. Thanks. For dropping by, Vet. 

 

 **Helvetica:** Thanks for having me. It uh, helped a lot.

 

Cut tape, with a sharp and nervous tap of Lucy’s fingertip. 

 

* * *

 

 _Dated:_ _February 1, 12009_

 

_Label: Loose floorboard_

 

Roll tape. Sound of footsteps on the creak of Lucy's apartment floor. Lucy is pacing, pausing every so often, almost saying something. 

 

The desk chair creaks as he sits down hard. 

 

 **Lucy:** God. I'm in-- I'm in deep, deep trouble. [Pause]. Shit, that probably sounded worse than it is, given what I'm doing. No, Steak's case is fine, as fine as it can be. It's. It's Autumn. Or her and Helvetica -- or, I mean. [Pause]. Let me start at the beginning. 

 

He reaches for his lighter, then it seems to register what he's just said. 

 

 **Lucy:** [laughs, nervous and light] Start at the beginning, right. 

 

 **Lucy:** So. Vet and Autumn just came by. Right while I was in the middle of sorting through Steak's case-- lucky I had the good sense to lock the door. Shoved the pages under the floorboards like usual, headed for the door. Autumn, lipstick on and smiling like the trouble she is. 

 

He lights his cigarette, exhales hard.

 

 **Lucy:** God, she looked gorgeous. I don’t even have it in me to dress it up, that sweet-and-sugar sundae girl has had it in for me since the day I met her. Hell if I know how she does it. But she came right in, Helvetica behind her, gave the office a good look and says, “I knew it! I knew you’d taken another case.

 

 **Lucy:** I. I had to neaten the place up. Had too many old newspapers, bits of string from my board. Lucky that was away too, as always. Anyhow. I played dumb, I had to. Said I’d taken one small-time affair case, just small potatoes. Nothing special. 

 

Lucy blows out the smoke a minute, considering how best to describe Autumn.

 

 **Lucy:** She’s got fire in her eyes, that dame, but she isn’t talking just yet. “Autumn has a theory,” Vet says, and then Autumn chimes in with, “Actually, it's because of what Vetica said about Steak, how he can't imagine him leaving Mr. Good Heavens like that, and it got me thinking-- yeah! Why would he leave the love of his life like that!” 

 

 **Lucy:** Damn her and all her crazy theories. [Pause] So. Something you should know about me, I’ve got a decent poker face. But Autumn knows all my tells. I don’t know _how_ , just the little things over the years she’s picked up. So I protest, but she isn’t having any of it, shaking her head like she’s got me.

 

He laughs, almost helplessly. 

 

 **Lucy:** And then she jams those red sneakers into the loose board, pops it out. Goes “ah- HA mister, I knew it!” like she’s some kind of Miss Marple. Too smart for her own good. [Pause] You. You might think this is where I got in trouble, but that’s -- not really it. I stood up while she’s pawing throw the papers, told her to put it back, she demands to know what I’m hiding, and I tell her that’s none of her damn business. 

 

 **Lucy:** Course she didn’t like that, but before she could spit back anything either of us would regret-- Vet just yells at the both of us to shut up. Heh. Didn’t know the k-- didn’t know he had it in him. [Pause, half to himself]. Trying to get out of the habit of calling him kid. 

 

 **Lucy:** Helvetica sits down hard in the chair that’s for clients and just says, “isn’t it bad enough that Steak is gone? Just. We’re all _dead_ and stuck in this together, right? I mean. Kind of…” he trails off, all lost. God. He reminds me of myself but also -- he’s better than I ever was. I wouldn’t have spoke up, wouldn’t have stopped me and Autumn from going at each other’s spinal columns. Like I used to watch Heavens and Niles snipe at each other in the early days -- and I never said a damn thing…

 

He mumbles to himself something that might be ‘fuck’. 

 

 **Lucy:** Anyways. ‘Vet got his voice back and looked me in the eye-- told me I didn’t have to tell them anything, not if I didn’t want to. I. [Pause. When he starts again his voice is raw, no trace of the detective’s drawl]. God, I said I wanted to, but I couldn’t stand if if they got hurt. And then I said, fuck it. Out loud, yeah. And I told them everything. 

 

Lucy murmurs an audible ‘shit’ under his breath. Gets up, pours himself a careful amount of whiskey from a bottle. Sets the bottle down on the desk, then thinks better of it and puts it back on the shelf. Sits down hard. Takes a sip with a gasp.

 

 **Lucy:** Course both of them were amazing at it; Autumn made the connection to the glass cutter I’d been trying to all week in a second. Probably saved me -- a lot of work. But it’s as they’re going through the pieces sent by Steak, throwing around ideas. I’m looking from Autumn, sweet and sharp as she’s always been, to Helvetica, still wearing the same shirt Heavens got him and I -- well, fuck, after all Steak’s going through this sounds stupid, but it hit me all just now and I gotta say it.

 

 **Lucy:** I think I love them. Both of them, christ. Like, I was just looking from ‘Vet to Autumn, feeling like my ribcage was going to collapse in on itself. They were both just so damn good -- and I -- 

 

He pauses, takes a sip of the whiskey. Another pause. Finishes the whiskey. 

 

 **Lucy:** This is stupid. This is stupid, and it doesn’t mean anything. They’re both -- good, that’s it. And I’ve got this case to finish, for Steak. And that’s it. [almost to himself]. That’s it.

 

He waits for almost thirty seconds, saying nothing, before he cuts the tape. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts always appreciated <3
> 
> Next Chapter: Steak's case comes to a head, and there ends up being much to celebrate. 
> 
> (this is, of course, still canon with _a light that comes from what we know inside_ , and goes beyond its canon.


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